Digimon Adventure TRI: Balance
by Tsubasa Hane
Summary: Rewrite of TRI, where the group reunites with Wallace instead of meeting Meiko, and the five Original Chosen's past will affect their future far greater than any could have ever imaged. Inter-dimensional crossover with Tamers. takari, joumi, & ryuki. [CHAPTER 12: Takeru is on a mission. Koushiro shares his idea. The digimon face an unexpected setback in their plans.]
1. Prologue

And so it begins. Again.

Back during my days in the Teen Titans fandom, I got into the habit of doing Episode Rewrites. Taking bits and pieces of established canon and blending it with prior comic knowledge and a dash of originality to create something new and fun. It was a fantastic exercise in imaginative storytelling. Each one of my subsequent attempts grew more and more bold.

This time will be no exception, only more episodes = bigger story. MUCH bigger.

If you've come here looking for a close parallel of TRI with a few modest alterations, I'm afraid you've clicked on the wrong fic. Will I still keep to the same approximate timeline? Yes? Will there be **some** scene parallels in my retelling? Of course. But otherwise, I'm telling the entire story from scratch. MY way.

And yes, there will be headcanon.

Kinda like this:

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

 **-** **Prologue-**

* * *

 _Fourteen Years Ago..._

o

 _Rumour spread far and wide across the land. Little more than whispers in the wind at first, but even the faintest breeze could strengthen into a great storm. And in the eye of said storm lay the Village of Beginnings. Aptly named, for it was there that all life in the World began._

 _Including the one clutched protectively in the guardian_ _d_ _igimon's arms._

 _Elecmon was well aware of the eyes watching his every move as he stepped from the cave's entrance. He paid them little heed, devoting the sole of his attention to the swaddled child. So small and helpless. Too helpless. Unable to move or speak or even see, with tiny eyes shut in peaceful slumber._

 _Babies were not meant to sleep so soon after hatching. It was unnatural. They were meant to expel all the pent up energy contained within their egg. Burst forth and greet the new world in birth—or, sometimes, rebirth—before venturing out in search of their next evolution. This Baby could do none of those things, and yet, deep down, Elecmon knew it was not a simple matter of defection. Nor the curious mystery of missing eggshells surrounding the area in which it was found._

 _Little of that seemed to matter when the mere sight of such an innocent face brought about warmth as he had never known. Warmer than any evolution he'd ever witnessed._

 _Not a sound could be heard for more than a kilometer. Unusual for so diverse a crowd of that size._

" _Well?" It was Ogremon who spoke first, impatient to the point of anxiousness._

" _Patience," Leomon closed his eyes, emitting a scoff at his eternal rival. "A moment such as this must not be rushed."_

 _Tensions rose as the crowd eyed Ogremon with caution. Several of the smaller digimon braced themselves to scatter, if necessary. However, for once, the viral creature's hair-trigger did not go off._ _He shot a single look Leomon's way before slouching against the nearest tree._

 _Fabric rustled. Attention returned to the Baby, who had begun to stir, A series of small, nearly indiscernible twitches of muscle. Elecmon used the blanket to carefully wipe at the Baby's face, and all too soon after, the Baby fell still once more. There was no crying. No laughter. No other signs of movement._

 _And yet..._

" _Healthy."_

 _Murmurs erupted throughout the Village. Some of them, happy, Others, wary. Surprised. Curious. Wondrous. There was no single consensus over how to feel, and it showed on each of their faces._

" _It should not be possible."_

" _Is it broken?"_

" _Is this some kind of miracle? Or a warning?"_

" _But what will become of—"_

" _Enough." Elecmon's eyes narrowed, silencing the masses with a single look. He did not dare raise his voice for fear of disturbing the Baby further, though the impact was no less powerful. The world around him fell still in their lingering uncertainty, and he took this time to properly clear his throat before continuing. "Gossip as you will, but I have found no singular reason not to treat this as more than any other birth. Even if the circumstances are...unorthodox."_

" _Unorthodox!" One of the Gekomon croaked, throwing its wiry arms in the air. "It's unprecedented! Everyone knows that Digimon are to be born from eggs. EGGS! And the timing..." he trailed off, visibly shuddering in lieu of finishing his own sentence._

" _What do we tell them?" A lowly Candmon wanted to know._

 _Metal clinking. Everyone turned back to see Leomon resting a paw against the hilt of his sword. Though his body language remained calm, perhaps even relaxed, the bodies of several others around him tensed again. Moreso when Ogremon, too, mirrored his movements with his club._

" _How concerned should we be?" The lion Digimon questioned._

 _All eyes turned to Elecmon in anticipation._

 _But it was another who answered: "Perhaps your proclaimed wisdom is not so vast after all, dear Leomon."_

 _Eight wings glistened in the early afternoon sun. Each extending to the full of their span, casting a shadow over Elecmon and the Baby. In the center, a cherub. Fair, with blonde curls and perpetually youthful face. Only the four metal rings around each limb hinted at the true power contained within such a small creature._

" _Lucemon," Elecmon bowed his head in greeting towards the Holy Digimon._

" _Not quite."_

 _The words gave Elecmon pause. He looked again and nearly did a double-take._

 _It was not so easily perceptible at a glance. A face so normally deceptively in its cheerfulness_ _was blank. Eyes that usually shone brighter than twin suns were as cold and distant as a moonless night. Skin left pale to the point of iridescence—and, in fact, was enveloped in a faint, ethereal glow indicative of the true entity within._

 _Realizing his error, Elecmon stumbled back in shock._

" _It's...you." Fear irrationally swept over him. Not for his own safety, but for that of the Baby he clutched that much more protectively in his arms. "But how? Why?"_

" _You know why I am here. Let me see the Child."_

 _A shiver ran down the guardian's spine so deep, he forgot to correct the evolution label._

 _His hesitation did not go unnoticed, and an apathetic sigh passed through the cherub's lips._

" _Steady your mind. I am neither here to hurt nor punish. What is done cannot be undone. A new life in and of itself is not a crime." With a single tilt of the head, the Baby in Elecmon's arms was now within its view. Empty eyes stared at the swaddle of warmth and light and remained unfazed. "But a life such as this one will not go unnoticed for long."_

 _Another shiver. "Surely, he has no reason to care?"_

" _On the contrary. He has ever reason. Which is why the Child cannot stay here. Not where detection is not only likely but certain."_

 _A cluster of Numemon began dancing in place, their beady eyes wide._

" _We would gladly take the Baby back with us! It would be our honor! Our underground home is often overlooked, and there is safety in numbers!"_

" _But not brains," Ogremon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. He sent the Numemon a look that sent their numbers scurrying in fear, only to be silenced in turn by a heated glare from Leomon._

" _Pay him no heed," Leomon shook his head, then surprised the Numemon by taking a knee. His expression softened. "Your offer is a noble one, Numemon. It does not go unnoticed."_

 _Their faces visibly brightened, eyes shimmering with joy._

" _But is is not enough." The being inside Lucemon cut in, shaking its head. "Numemon's underground community goes unnoticed, not unknown. For the sake of all, the Child will be sent away. Far beyond even our reach."_

 _Elecmon's jaw dropped._

" _You would banish one so defenseless?! In such a state, even isolation would mean certain death."_

" _I said nothing of isolation."_

 _It was then Lucemon descended upon then, closing the remaining distance. Movements were swift and deliberate. The Baby was taken from Elecmon's arms before the guardian had time to process what was happening. Yet, to his great surprise, a similar degree of care and caution was given to holding it. Lucemon even began to rock back and forth in a manner so lulling that more than a few Numemon's eyes dropped from watching._

 _Any attempts at protesting died before they could be fully realized; Lucemon rose into the air once more, leaving the digimon below to stare up in awe._

" _The Child will be given protection. That much is still within our power. A guardian...no," in a rare moment of self-correction, the entity gave pause. Contemplation followed. Then a solution: "Two guardians. Should the first one fail. Arrangements will be made at once."_

" _I don't like it," Elecmon muttered, claws anxiously twitching at empty air. Already, he could feel the lack of warmth filling his person combined with the crushing new weight of the unknown to come._

" _Fortunately, that is not a factor in this decision. My word is final. The Child will be brought to a place where even He would not think to look."_

o

o

o

o

o

Present Day...

o

The cabin of the plane shook from turbulence, startling the young boy awake.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" His mother asked from the adjacent seat.

" _Hai—_ " He began, in a semi-automatic response, before realizing his error. English. Not Japanese. Not for a few more hours, at least. "I mean...I'm fine, mama. You don't need to worry about me."

He followed it with a charming, if slightly hazy, smile. This seemed to satisfy the woman, who returned to the novel she'd been reading.

Adjusting himself in his seat, Wallace winced upon realizing there were parts of him that had yet to receive the memo he was awake. A crick in his neck was solved by rolling his head back and forth. The slight tingling in his left foot proved a greater challenge, but it went ignored as he instead glanced at the large tote bag sitting partially beneath the seat in front of him.

Two pairs of glossy eyes were peeking back at him through an opening along the zipper.

Smiling, he checked to make sure there were no attendants in sight before grabbing a few peanut packs and slipping them into his bag. The fabric jerked sharply a few times until agreements were made, and Wallace sat back in his seat to look out the window.

It was early afternoon in Tokyo. Countless buildings below reflected the light of the sun off their respective rooftops, giving the illusion of a sea of daytime stars. It was a sight that brought an even brighter smile to his lips as the last remnants of dreams faded, allowing far more pleasant thoughts to fill his mind.

"I wonder if Miyako and Hikari will remember me?"

o

o

Inoue Miyako paused mid-sentence to sneeze.

"...uh-oh. We've been found out." To her right, Motomiya Daisuke gave an exaggerated grimace at the phone screen. It lasted less than a second before melting into a more sly grin as he risked a glance out of the corner of his eye. "She knows we're talking about her."

"Funny."

Miyako pretended to glare at her friend for a solid two seconds before getting up. She didn't want to risk getting the blanket between them dirty, even if they were still wearing indoor shoes, so she took just enough care to walk along the outer edge before unceremoniously plopping herself directly next to Daisuke. Making certain to invade his personal space as much as physics allowed.

It had an added advantage of giving her full view of the boy on the other side of the screen: "Besides, I know you only ever have great things to say about me. Right, Ken-kun?"

" _Ah...right, Miyako-san._ " Ken laughed nervously at the thought of getting caught between them, hand rising to the back of his head.

"Speak for yourself," Daisuke muttered darkly.

The girl was so close to him now, he had to place a hand to the ground to maintain balance from leaning away. When he showed signs of complaining, however, she promptly ignored him and put on an even brighter smile for the camera.

But not before giving the back of his head a light whack.

"Ow! The hell?!"

Across the city, Ichijouji Ken hid the laughter at his two friends behind one hand. Three years had come and gone in the time he'd gotten to know them, and since then, nothing had changed. Almost. They were all in middle school now, and though their uniform designs bore a number of similarities, the respective emblems denoting two very different places of learning served as one more reminded how far away he still resided.

Most of the time, it didn't bother him. He had very few friends at his own school—they were more like friendly acquaintances, at best—and so the majority of his afternoons were spent in Odaiba anyway. And ever since Daisuke's mom had given him a new video chat-enabled phone, they were able to talk during shared lunch breaks as well.

"Will you move over? Your head's in my way."

"It's my phone!"

Then again, there were times when he was thankful for the safety of distance between them.

"Are you ready for school festival week?" Miyako was asking.

Within the last several seconds, it seemed she and Daisuke had finally come to a truce. She got to lean heavily on his shoulders to keep up with the conversation, chin resting awkwardly on his shoulder, and he no longer had to hear her whining about not being able to see. A win-win all around, obviously.

"I suppose." Ken nodded. "Our homeroom voted on the tea cafe, but the class treasure's older sister studied tea ceremonies when she was in school and is helping us with some of the blends. There really isn't much else for us to do but set up on Monday and serve."

"Ah, that sound so cool!" Miyako exclaimed.

But Daisuke frowned. "It sucks that everyone does it all at the same time. I'm practically tied to my soccer club's noodle cart the whole week."

"Weren't you the one who suggested the noodle cart?" Miyako side-eyed him.

"All the more reason I have to be there!" He looked offended she would think otherwise. "It's my recipe, and without me, they could completely mess it up. My noodle reputation would be forever ruined!"

Sensing another rising argument between the pair, Ken cut in: "Ah...I'm sure I'll still have plenty of time to stop by your noodle cart, Daisuke-san."

"Maybe we can all meet up and go together," Miyako suggested. "Noodle boy over here might be too busy, but the rest of us should have time. Right, Hikari-chan?"

Silence.

"...Hikari-chan?"

When the remaining member of their lunch party didn't answer, Miyako lifted her head.

Yagami Hikari sat on the edge of the school rooftop several meters from their blanket, back resting against the safety fence. Unmoving, save for the occasional gust of wind teasing her long bangs. Her head was turned, eyes focusing on something on the ground below. To many, her expression seemed blank. Passively neutral.

Miyako knew better; rising to her feet—and nearly pushing Daisuke down from the force of movement—she marched herself right over to Hikari's side before following her line of sight.

Takaishi Takeru's golden hair stood out in the middle of the school courtyard. He was surrounded by about five girls. Underclassman, mostly, though Miyako recognized at least one of them as a third year. His smile was bright and cordial as he addressed each of them in turn. Their eyes had stars in them. The longer he spoke, the brighter those stars shone, until two of them look to one another in delight while the remaining three gave a mixture of cheers and delighted squeals.

Miyako's brows furrowed. She wasn't sure what to make of the sight. Or how to react, especially with Hikari sitting beside her.

"He...seems to be getting more and more popular lately." Her words were cautious. Chosen deliberately and with care. Awaiting the inevitable reaction, and prepared to step in as comfort to her best (female) friend.

Hikari didn't flinch.

What she did do was reach for the mobile phone in her pocket. A flip model, unlike Daisuke's, but sufficient for what she had to do next. Pulling up the text message option, she quickly typed in a succession of characters and hit send.

Her attention returned to the ground below.

So did Miyako's.

Takeru reached for his mobile phone. A mode similar to Hikari's, he too had to flip it open in order to read something on the screen. His eyes scanned the message in less than a second before he lifted his head towards them both. And pouted.

Hikari bit back a wave of giggles, and it was then Miyako was able to catch a glimpse of what she'd written on her screen:

 _How many tickets did you promise them this time?_

"...ah!" The gears were turning, and as realization slowly dawned on her. "That's right. Tickets for Yamato-san's concert have been sold out for weeks, haven't they? Takeru-kun must be the only one left who can still get tickets."

She sat back, feeling more relieved than the situation probably required. Takeru had an overwhelmingly positive reputation around their school. He was athletic and lean, friendly and gentle, and oozed charm. But, somehow, he had yet to get in trouble for it, always knowing exactly where to draw the line. Which was fine with Miyako, if it meant holding off on having to scream at him on Hikari's behalf for another day.

Even if Hikari, herself, never seemed to mind.

Her phone was buzzing. Miyako leaned over to catch a glimpse of the receiving message:

 _Are you implying they only like me for my industry connections?_

"One each, then," Hikari murmured humorously, biting her lower lip as she set to work sending her best friend another message.

The girl surrounding him were walking away, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Takeru hardly noticed; even from a distance, it was clear that Hikari had the whole of his attention the way he cradled the small electronic device in his hands. Another buzz, and his eyes lit up in amusement at her latest message.

He started typing his next response.

Hikari's phone buzzed again.

-followed by the sound of her phone slamming shut. Hikari gave a sharp gasp, and by the time Miyako turned back around, she looked as taken aback as Miyako had ever seen her.

"What did he say?!" She just had to know!

"Nothing." The response came a little too quickly. Hikari made a point of tucking the phone in her back pocket, purposely ignoring a follow-up message buzzing in her uniform skirt. This gave her enough time to steady herself as she turned back to Miyako with an overly exaggerated smile. "He's heading up here now. Unfortunately, his new girlfriends won't be joining us."

Miyako stared at her incredulously. "I really don't get you two."

"What do you mean?" Hikari asked innocently, averting her eyes as she moved to stand.

"You know what I mean," she huffed back. Why did it feel like every person in her life was conspiring to make things unnecessarily difficult? "Neither of you are fooling—Hikari-chan!"

The girl in question had barely risen to her feet before stumbling back into the fence. Miyako and Daisuke both rushed to her side, the latter nearly dropping his phone in the process. A concerned Ken could he heard coming through the speakers, asking what was happening.

Blinking several times to clear her vision, Hikari rose a hand to her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly before opening them once more. Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked to Miayko sheepishly.

"I'm alright. Just a little vertigo. That's all."

Neither of them looked convinced.

Still, she made a deliberate show of pulling back and proceeding to brush the remaining dust from her uniform skirt. Her movements were swift and at ease and showing no further signs of fatigue or injury, and in time, seemed to appease the suspicious pair. It was then that something in the distance caught her eye, and she looked up to see one of the larger international flights passing high above, through a mostly cloudless sky.

"Do you think that's Mimi-san's flight?" Miyako questioned, hands clasped excitedly together as she too caught sight of the plane.

It was Ken who answered: "I was told she wasn't due to arrive until Friday."

"Oh. Right."

Dejected, Miayko returned to her previous seat on the blanket, this time taking charge of Daisuke's phone as she brushed back her hair and lapsed into conversation about computer club. All other topics of conversation either since forgotten or pushed to the back of her mind to make room for her latest train of thought.

The sound of her voice faded into the air as Hikari lingered back. Eyes continuing to follow the glint of silver in the distance. Watching it fade away as it headed for Tokyo International. There was nothing extraordinary about it. No reason to suspect it was anything other than one more flight that wasn't bringing Mimi back to them just yet.

But...all the same...Hikari couldn't shake the feeling it was carrying something important.


	2. TWO

I know, I know. I wasn't expecting to update so soon either. There's just something about typing out shorter chapters that makes it easier to type out snippets throughout the week and then do final edits on the weekend. I can't guarantee this will be a regular occurrence, especially once concert season begins, but...I can only Hope.

o

As I stated in the prologue chapter, there will be a LOT of changes from the original series. Shadows of familiarity are woven in between an altering of timelines, all of which are deliberate, with elements of some scenes appearing in an entirely different context. Certain characters (* _coughMeikocough_ *) will be replaced by others, and yes, I have much bigger plans for the 02 cast. I swear I have something resembling a plan ahead, but as tends to happen, there is every expectation that this story will continue to grow and evolve with each new update.

In addition, I have several twists and surprises set in store. Some have already been foreshadowed, some will be hinted at in this chapter, and there are many more clues to come.

During my _**Teen Titans**_ era, I had an ongoing game with a group of fellow authors by having them guess what I was trying to do. It was always fun on all sides to see who came close, and how each individual interpreted what I wrote. Or what little easter eggs they spotted along the way. Similarly, if there are any current readers who want to attempt something similar now...well, obviously, I don't want to give it all away from the start, but I still encourage you to try.

o

* * *

 **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE**

* * *

o

"It's quiet this afternoon, don't you think?"

Sitting atop one of the amp speakers, one leg bent at the knee and supporting the weight of his arm, Yamato turned his head away from the window. The view from the practice room was pathetic on a good day, but he'd almost managed to catch a glimpse of cloud in the sliver of sky visible. His attention soon focused on the room's sole other occupant, and he waited a few seconds to see if Takeru would elaborate on his statement.

He didn't.

"That's ironic, coming from the person playing guitar." He smirked behind the rim of his soda can. "Curl your wrist a little more. Otherwise, you won't be able to position your fingers for the third chord."

Takeru smiled brightly at the advise, unfazed by the thought of error, and set to work fixing his posture. A slight shift in the seat, and he nodded to himself before trying again. His fingers where nowhere near as the comfort levels of his brother when holding the stringed instrument, but enough time spent fiddling had gotten him to the point where he could feign confidence in a grand total of three chords. Maybe four, if he could figure out the proper angle to bend his fingers.

For once, it was just the two of them. A peaceful lull in between afternoon band practice—the other members already having gone home for the day—and time during which the brothers would have to part ways. Both their parents were scheduled for late work nights; Takaishi Natsuko was finishing a last-minute editorial for the weekend edition, while Ishida Hiroaki was, coincidentally, hammering out details for Yamato's upcoming concert broadcast. The show was in less than two weeks' time, and with a primetime slot guaranteed for a live airing, he insisted that everything be perfect.

Of course, it wasn't like Takeru and Yamato ever needed an excuse to spend time together. Just...well...it was all the easier to justify when they knew they'd only be returning to empty apartments.

"It feels awkward," Takeru admitted after a moment, pausing long enough to shake out the threat of a cramp in his hand.

"Only because you're not used to the grip. In time, it'll become like second nature."

Without the amplifier, Takeru's subsequent strumming came out in dull, muted sounds, but Yamato listened close enough that it didn't matter. Each chord was awkward and stiff, lacking the reverberations of experience, but were otherwise correct. A fleeting wave of pride washed over him at being able to teach Takeru something successfully. He still wasn't sure when exactly his little brother had taken an interest in music, or why he suddenly wanted to learn to play the guitar. The skeptic in him suspected Takeru was up to something. The rationalist hiding behind told him there was only so much trouble the boy could get into with that kind of skill.

Then again...

"You said you needed five extra tickets, right?" Straightening, Yamato pushed himself up from his makeshift seat and towards a small desk in the corner of the room. Resting atop was a small envelope. He picked it up and began flicking through the slips of paper inside. "General admission or VIP?"

"General is fine. I don't think they mind so much where they get to sit, as long as the seats are better than the ones they were able to get originally."

Nodding at the reasoning, Yamato counted out five tickets from the envelope, pulling them out to check they were the proper type, before replacing the envelope and heading back over. Concert sales had already exceeded the last show, to the point where he didn't bat an eyelash at his brother suddenly asking for extra seats. Members of the band had a few dozen to spare, and once he took into account certain VIPs he'd already invited—present company obviously included—there was enough of an excess to fulfill Takeru's request.

"I am a little surprised, admittedly." As he passed the tickets over, he took care to watch the younger boy's reaction as he stated: "Five cute girls come up to you at lunch, and none of them end up VIPs for the weekend?"

If Takeru was surprised by his knowledge, he didn't let it show. "Who told you that? Daisuke-kun or Miyako-san?"

"Hikari-chan, actually." The corners of his lips twitched upward and he folded his arms across his chest. "I saw her yesterday afternoon to drop off her ticket."

"She's coming too?"

 _Success_ ; even Takeru couldn't hide the look of honest surprise at the news, momentary dropping his cool facade entirely. His eyes widened in a very telling manner, to the point where Yamato had to bite back the threat of a laugh.

Channeling his young brother's acting skills, he bore a mask of neutrality, his voice coming out in a similarly passive tone: "You didn't know? I thought you two were supposed to be best friends."

"We are." Any hints of pleasure were soon marred by confusion, however. "But I thought she was supposed to go to Taichi-san's soccer match that day."

This much, in Takeru's defense, had been true. She'd mentioned the conflict to him a few days prior, during one of their semi-regular habits of walking one another home from school. On days when neither of them had after school clubs or other obligations. It was all too easy to fall into step with one another, walking along at a leisure pace as they caught up on all the things they no longer shared, now that they were in separate homerooms. Sometimes they talked about nothing at all, and were amazed at how quickly the time together flew regardless.

Miyako used to join them, since she and Takeru lived in the same building, but lately seemed more interested in precisely the opposite direction. The fact that said path took her to a park in between their and Ken's schools was more than mere coincidence.

"She still is," Yamato confirmed. "But she said she could make the times work out if she planned accordingly. Sora was worried about the same thing, so I told Hikari-chan to get in touch with her to help with that."

Too late did Yamato realize he'd left himself open; a mischievous glint in Takeru's eye appeared, and through his own joy at the latest news, he shook his head. "You're not going to help her yourself? That's no good, Aniki..."

"I-I'll be busy that day!" Yamato balked, brows furrowing in annoyance. A cough, to conceal his momentary lapse in composure, followed. "There's last minute practices and set-up and...wait, we're supposed to be talking about you and Hikari-chan!"

"We were?" Takeru's tone was far too innocent for Yamato's liking. "Why?"

"You know why."

"Not really." The facade was fully back now. Continuing to feign a passive ignorance, Takeru returned his attention to the guitar. He repositioned his hands in a much more appropriate manner, and the series of chords that followed were precise and crisp. "...but if it bothers you that much, Aniki," he glanced upward, smile unfading, "You know you're still the one I love most, right?"

Yamato's cheeks flushed a bright red, and he closed his eyes and turned away. Waving a dismissive hand in the air, his voice betrayed the frustration at his brother's ongoing 'joke' once again successful in its intention: to distract.

"Don't you start with that again."

Takeru chuckled softly at his brother's response. Exactly as he'd expected.

o

o

Taichi let out a sigh of exasperation.

"Seriously? There's no way you can all be that tired so quickly."

His only response was a chorus of moans. Several of which came muffled from the teammates face-planted into the grassy field.

Hands on hips, the seventeen-year-old captain narrowed his eyes as he stared down each and every boy. Most of them were wise enough to avoid visual contact. One of them looked half asleep. Another looked half-dead, face and part of his practice jersey drenched in sweat. Combined with the audible gasps of breath and defeated postures, and Taichi was forced to admit that he may have been the only one on the team with any decent stamina.

"Fine," He relented, head bowing in defeat. "We'll take a break. Five minutes."

More moans.

"...ten, then."

Unwilling to negotiate further, he headed over to the sidelines, where his bag lay half open. There was a towel sticking out of the main zipper, and he wrapped it around his neck before reaching for a bottle of water. The liquid was still cool enough to be considered refreshing, and once he'd chugged a good third of it, he plopped down on the grass, reaching for his cell phone and laying flat on his back. A few wisps of clouds passed by overhead before the view was obscured by the screen.

There were five missed calls, all originating from the same caller.

Before he had a chance to call back, however, his phone began to ring again. This time, it was Koushiro's number. On the second ring, he accepted the call, placing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

But it wasn't Koushiro on the other end: "I knew it! You are avoiding me again!"

Taichi shot up in his seat at the sound of Sora's voice, visibly recoiling from her tone. Looking like the child with his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar, he winced for about two seconds before a certain realization dawned on him, and he pulled the phone back long enough to stare at it suspiciously.

"Why do you have Koushiro's phone?"

"We're on a date," came the reply. Flat and dry.

Behind her, Taichi heard the sounds of a certain auburn-haired high schooler sputtering. Muffled protests followed, and if Sora's tone weren't enough evidence she wasn't serious, Koushiro's reaction cemented the notion in his mind.

He snorted. "Yeah, right."

A pause. Koushiro's voice came through a bit clearer now that it was no longer panicking: " _I'm not sure I should feel relieved or a little insulted he doesn't believe you_."

"So what's this about, anyway?" Resigning himself to whatever impending fate the universe had in store for him, Taichi lay back down and threw his free arm over his eyes. "You're not gonna yell at me because of Yamato again, are you?"

"Why? Are you two fighting again?"

"No. Not really. Not unless you count my pointing out his horrific lack of taste when it comes to quality ramen seasoning."

He was fairly certain he heard a slight giggle on Sora's end, but wisely chose not to comment. Still, it was a good sign she was relaxing—an opinion he also decided to keep to himself for the moment.

"I wanted to double-check with you about this Friday evening."

"Why? What's Friday?"

" _Tai_. _Chi_." She deliberately emphasized each syllable in his name in such a way he couldn't help smile. Sora only ever did that when he _really_ annoyed her. Intentionally or otherwise. "Don't tell me you forget already. We've been planning to meet Mimi-chan at the airport for weeks now!"

"Oh. That." He waved a hand in the air, even though they were on a voice call and she wouldn't be able to see. "I'll be there. Hikari will make sure of it. You know that already, Sora. You really didn't have to call me six times during practice."

The pause on her end was much longer this time. Telling. When she finally spoke again, Taichi could hear her sheepishness: "...you're at soccer practice?"

"Well, yeah. Why else wouldn't I pick up? I can't exactly answer my phone when I'm on the field."

"Right. I knew that."

It wasn't often he managed to get a leg up on Sora. Normally, the teen was so on top of everyone's schedule, she could have recited Hikari's after school clubs, Jou's exam dates, and every sale Mimi was anticipating. Either she was having an off day, or else there was something more behind it.

For half a second, Taichi even considered questioning her on it before deciding that was probably a conversation better suited for Hikari.

"Anything else?" he asked instead.

"Not so long as you promise you'll be there. On time."

"Yeah, yeah. If it makes you feel better, I'll even show up early."

This time, Sora did laugh, and Taichi felt himself relaxing at the sound. As fun (and rare) as it was to have the upper hand, he always preferred Sora when she was at her best. Happy and confident. Even if it came at his expense: "I'll believe it when I see it."

Snorting, Taichi said his goodbyes there and then before hanging up. When he caught his reflection in the metallic surface, he realized he was still smiling.

A faint gust of wind blew across the field, cooling his skin. Taichi closed his eyes for a moment, blocking out the ongoing complaints in the distance. The hand with the phone fell to his side. His shoulders slumped. He repositioned himself to lay back down again, moving to adjust the towel around his neck into a makeshift pillow.

Footsteps approached. From the opposite direction of the soccer field.

Peeking one eye open, he was surprised to find an upside-down image of his little sister bending over him.

"Hikari?" Confused, he sat up once more and turned to face her. "What are you doing here?"

Wordlessly, she revealed a small package hidden behind her back. It was the bento box their mother made for him that morning specifically for that day's practice. Taichi was remiss to admit he'd forgotten about it completely until that moment.

"And just what is this good deed of yours going to cost me?" He held back a smile as she placed the box on the ground beside him, already knowing what she would say.

"A super-sized cone of the latest choco-cherry swirl from the convenience store."

One of the rare times in which Hikari was completely predictable. Be it a bribe or reward. Her growing sweet tooth was an open secret among their most inner circle of friends, and yet absolutely none of them could bring themselves to tease her about it. Especially not the older children. Especially since she never seemed to gain an ounce in spite of the quantity.

Taichi made a point of sighing audibly, feigning annoyance at the request. Even though he knew he would have gotten it for her regardless. Such a relatively simple request coming from that face? It was almost impossible to say 'no'.

And the worst part of it all was that Hikari probably knew that too.

"Deal."

Her expression brightened, and Taichi couldn't bring himself to care that he was a total pushover.

"Oi! Hikari-chan"

The siblings turned at the sound of her name. Much to Taichi's chagrin, the entire team was suddenly up and about. Several of them were doing leg stretches on the ground. Others were racing jumping jacks, while the rest were simply quick-stretching their arms at a pace too rapid to actually be productive.

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you guys were too tired to move."

"Don't be ridiculous!" The boy in the middle called back. He smiled so brightly the sun seemed to shine off his pearly whites. "We're all here to do our best always. Right, Hikari-chan?"

The younger Yagami blinked twice before offering a faint smile in return: "Right!"

A wave of laughter and other exclamation of glee at her reaction followed, and Taichi's shoulders slumped for an entirely new reason. Raising a hand to his forehead, he massaged the threat of an oncoming headache with the tips of his fingers as he muttered a few choice words under his breath.

"I'm not sure whether to ask you to stop by practice more often or tell them you have a boyfriend and get it over with."

"I don't have a boyfriend," she pointed out.

"They don't have to know that."

"Oniichan..."

Ignoring her disapproving tone, Taichi finally moved to stand. His armed reached up and over his head, neck cranking from one side to the other in attempt to alleviate the knots. The gestures were rewarded with a few satisfying pops. He inhaled deeply once and let out a slow, audible exhale before turning back to Hikari.

She was already reaching for her phone, checking a new incoming message.

"I have to go. Miyako-san and I are supposed to meet up at the mall, and she's just about to leave the park with Ken-san." The latter news didn't seem to surprise her in the least, despite the fact that he was not part of the original plan: "I promised to help her find a new dress for this weekend."

"You'll still be home for dinner, thought, right? Or were you three going out to eat?"

She shook her head, tucking her phone back in her pocket. "No, I'll be home. You?"

"Same." He reached out to lightly ruffle her hair. "See you then. And thanks for bringing my lunch."

Some girls might have taken offense to such a thing, but Hikari always took the gesture in stride. Waiting until he was done to fix the short strands, smoothing the sides back down and brushing the stray bangs from her eyes. When she was satisfied with the result, she backed away with one last wave before heading to the entrance field. Her bike was resting against a bench.

Taichi took the time to watch her head off, waiting until she was out of sight before heading back to the rest of his team. Most of whom looked noticeably more dejected than they had a moment prior.

"Man, Taichi," The one holding the soccer ball called out to him. "You're so lucky to have such a cute sister!"

In response, he stormed right past the lot of them, forcefully grabbing the soccer ball along the way: "There are so many things wrong with that statement, I won't even dignify it with a proper answer. Now get back out here, so we can finish practice."

The command was met with a series of regretful groans.

o

o

High above the Tokyo skyline, a cluster of clouds drifted aimlessly.

Until they began to slow.

Then change direction.

A gradual swirling of air as they danced around one another. Increasing in speed until seemingly merging with one another just long enough to form a distinct eye in the center.

Lightning crackled. But no thunder crashed.

Then, the air itself warped. Twisting and bending until a rift appeared.

And thought that rift, a lone figured emerged. Dropping down several meters, coming to a low crouch atop one of the buildings. Far above the eye of any casual onlooker. The clouds above continued to swirl for several seconds longer, dark sparks emitting from the phenomenon, before dissipating into a peaceful blue sky. All in the span of a few seconds.

Below, not a soul seemed to notice.

The figure stood. Clothed in a thick robe made of a pale material lined with brown, and secured by a dark brown belt. Steady on his feet, he straightened just enough to survey the area from beneath a large hood. Brushing a few strands of brown hair from the edge of his forehead, he barely pulled away when a small beeping noise emitted from the earpiece.

" _Are you there? Can you hear me?_ "

A voice. Slightly distorted. Female.

Lips twitched upward. Two fingers were placed to his ear, steady the communicator bud to maximize audio.

"Careful. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worried about me."

" _I'm worried about the mission_ ," came the reply without missing a beat. Notably defensive. " _Communication would have been that much harder if the worlds were out of synch again._ "

"Fortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case."

" _Something had to go right eventually. What do you see?_ "

There was enough of a pause to contemplate the question. And whether or not he should give an honest response.

"A beautiful, late afternoon skyline. Picturesque, really. You should see it this—maybe I'll bring you with me next jump."

" _...I'm hanging up now._ "

"No, you won't."

Silence followed. Long enough that he actually began to suspect his current partner had followed through with her threat. But then...behind the silence, there was movement. A slight rustling of fabric as she was no doubt folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in the chair. He could picture it in his mind's eye as clear as if she were in front of him. The way her lips turned downward. Eyes boring into him with the intensity of a laser. Cold and disapproving to most. Secretly reveling in the attention to him alone; he wouldn't have persisted this long if he even suspected otherwise.

Deep down, he knew such thoughts were trivial. Unimportant in the grand scheme of things. And yet...they brought a comforting smile to his lips all the same.

"I'm not seeing any signs of distortion. Yet." He lifted his arm, brushing back the cloak sleeves to reveal a small computerized wrist watch. Only the numbers blinking back at him weren't the current time. A few taps to adjust the settings, and he nodded in affirmation at the data. "No detection within a seven kilometer radius. It's entirely possible..."

Something caught his eye. A flash out of his right corner. High in the sky, less than a kilometer from his current location.

" _What is it?_ "

Easy as it would have been to call her bluff then, the concern in her tone was matched by his own quickening heartbeat. He was just thankful they weren't monitoring his vitals that closely.

"Forget what I said before. Looks like I made it here just in time."

o

o

The signal to cross turned green.

Hikari took a single step off the sidewalk before a sudden chill down her spine stopped her cold. Around her, the street population remained oblivious. Most ignoring the young teen frozen in place, staring blankly at the crosswalk stripes as her mind desperately tried to catch up with what her body was telling her.

Her phone rang. She reached for it, glancing just long enough at the screen to see Miyako's name.

"Miyako-san?"

Distorted sounds came through the receiver. A low crackling. Like static.

"Miyako-san, can you hear me?"

For a split second, she could have sworn her friend's voice was coming through the other end. Shouting, but at a volume too soft for her to make out the proper words.

Then the line went dead.

Gusts of wind began to pick up. Leaves on the ground swirled to life, rising up higher and higher into the air. Hikari followed them closely, neck cranking to get a better view.

In the distance, someone's scream echoed off the adjacent buildings.

A flicker. A trick of the eye at first, maybe, except it happened again seconds later. And again. Over and over at an increasing frequency. The sky waving and rippling like the surface of a disrupted pond until...it opened, revealing a giant bird-like creature.

Hikari dropped her bike in shock: "Parrotmon!"

Chaos erupted, but for Hikari, it was as if the world around her slowed to a crawl. People fled. Cars drove erratically on the street, honking in vein hopes of clearing a path to escape. All of them fearing the monster which had just inexplicably appeared in the sky. A monster reminiscent of those that had once terrorized their fair city years before.

Above, the wild digimon screeched and fluttered. Every flap of its massive wings send strong gusts of wind to the streets below. Strong enough that Hikari had to brace herself to keep from falling.

In the midst of it all, a second distortion appeared. Bending and warping in a manner not unlike the first, except the creature that emerged this time was unlike any digimon she had ever seen before. From that distance, it was difficult to discern little more than a dark silhouette, but she was fairly certain it was humanoid in shape. A muscle body. Dark in color. A horned helmet not unlike that of Greymon. Shapes reminiscent of wings protruding from its body. Broken wings.

The new creature let out a fierce roar before slamming its body directly into Parrotmon, the resultant collision sending them both flying through the air.

o

o

Sora held up one scarf in both hands. Each bearing a similar, yet still distinctly different design. One was a lavender color, interwoven with a deeper purple, with a braided pattern border and snowy wintery scene embroidered on the front. The other was more peachy, with various shades of pink and brown, and the scene depicted was of a cherry blossom field.

"Either of these would be lovely on her," Smiling at the options, she glanced back towards Koushiro. "You said you got your father a tie, correct?"

The younger boy shuffled awkwardly in place before nodding. Clearly uncertain by the decision. "Is...that alright?"

"Actually, it works out better than you think," she reassured him with a nod. "If you go with the scarf for your mother, then it'll be like the gifts match. Which would work perfectly for anniversary gifts."

Her words seemed to ease some of his worry...until the ground beneath them both shook, nearly sending him to the ground. Sora's reflexes saved her, and she instinctively planted both feet to steady herself.

"...an earthquake?" she questioned, glancing around the department store. Most of the other customers seemed to be of a similar mind, and questioned only whether it would be necessary to seek shelter.

Less than a second later, however, screams erupted from just outside, and they turned to find a large crowd of people rushing passed the store windows. Frantic with panic.

Koushiro met her gaze and shook his head.

"No. Trouble."

o

o

Takeru's head shot up when the ground shook. Then towards the window when he heard the distant sound of screams. A tightness was forming in the pit of his stomach already.

Turning to his brother, the two of them nodded in unison before moving to head out.

Yamato reached for his cell phone.

o

o

Jou could only stare in silent horror at the sight.

"...how could this be?" His hands trembled, clutching the papers in his hand tight enough to wrinkle the edges. It took several seconds for him to calm himself down enough to gently replace them back on his bedroom desk. "I thought I'd studied hard enough this time. How did I still score so low?"

Behind him, the sight of two wild digimon engaged in battle filled his window. But he had already buried his head in his arms, voice coming out in defeated, muffled tones:

"This day could not get any worse."

o

o

With one kick, Taichi scored a clean shot into the net.

"Yes!"

He pumped a fist into the air, only to lower it when he realized the appointed goalie didn't even seem to notice. Nor did any one else for that matter. Frowning, he glanced around to confirm that there wasn't a single person on the field who was paying him any attention. Their eyes were instead glued to something else in the far distance.

Following their gazes, Taichi saw smoke. Coming from the same area he remembered Hikari had been heading towards.

His face paled. Practice was forgotten immediately as his body moved of its own accord, taking off at a dash's pace.

o

o

Everything happened too fast for Hikari to react.

Shattering of glass. Twisting of metal. Smoke erupting from the point of impact. Inhumane twin roars of pain and madness. There was something about the fight unfolding. More than echoes of a memory. It held her captive. Frozen in place, staring up with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Her breathing synched with her heartbeat. Mesmerized to the point of hypnosis.

It dulled her senses to the point where she didn't recognize the danger until it was too late.

Parrotmon attempted to swipe at its opponent, giant claws going in for a slash. But the other digimon was too fast, and all that was struck was a large corner of the skyscraper. Enough to send a large chunk hurling directly at the ground. Exactly where Hikari was standing.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The blood pounded in her ears.

She opened her mouth to scream-

A sudden force knocked her to one side, enveloping her in a warm, tight embrace as they rolled away to the safety of a small alleyway. Seconds later, she heard the distinct crash of impact. Fabric brushed across her skin, and when she tried to breath again, she caught a lung full of dust. Wheezing gasps followed. She coughed twice. Legs shaking as the weight covering her was lifted, giving her the chance to look up.

Through blurred vision, she saw what appeared to be a white hood with hints of spiky brown hair sticking out from beneath it. And a smile that, in any other circumstances, one might describe as charming.

"...you..." the resemblance was strong. Incredibly strong. Enough that she knew she could not rely on her eyes alone, closing her mouth and swallowing once as she let her instincts guide her next words: "...you're not Gennai."

Her ears were ringing, but she was fairly certain she heard the young man chuckle. "No. I'm not."

"Then who are you?"

"A friend."

The sounds of battle drew their attention back to the present. The hooded figure turned back, and the smile was replaced by a deep frown.

"Stay here, Hikari-san. Wait for your brother. No doubt he's already on his way."

Her jaw dropped. "How did you know-?"

But the figure was already up and running off, leaving her to stare after him. Wondering not only who he was or where he'd come from...but how he'd known her name.

o

o

Half a dozen computer monitors blinked in unison. All of them signaling precisely one thing: danger.

In the center was the most prominent screen. The one everyone kept an eye on, regardless of their actual assignment. It was there the images of thirteen children were on full display. Names, dates of birth, and—in certain cases—noted relations. Eight of them were larger than the others, displayed across the top in a single line. Below, and to the right, were four additional pictures. The remaining thirteenth was isolated to the opposite corner.

Data scrolled along the bottom at a pace too quick for most to decipher, but for the young woman sitting in the middle, there was no need. Her fingers were already gripping the arm rests tight enough to turn her knuckles white despite her otherwise calm exterior. She knew what it meant.

So did the man standing directly behind her. Who paused just long enough to take a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling with a nod towards their shared reflection in the screen.

"It's begun."


	3. THREE

One of the most frustrating things about the way TRI was written—at least, from my perspective—was the fact that certain moments were necessary to further the plot, yes, but still kind of just happened with little explanation regarding the HOW or WHY.

Ironically enough, this is one of the biggest issues I'm facing right now.

This chapter, in particular, gave me several headaches that ended up delaying its completion because I was worried about writing myself into a corner too soon. I'm not going to lie and claim that I have 100% of this story outlined and ready to go. I really don't. What I do have is a broad outline and a scattered array of very specific scenes and plot points I'm trying to jigsaw together. It's not easy, because that leaves the original problem of giving the WHY and HOW...as well as an additional dilemma of figuring out the WHEN, since I'm not following the original canon time-line as closely.

Part of me is worried this will make the story feel too rushed. Then again...the true start of this story is when things are happening so I figured I might as well begin there.

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

The streets were filled with screams of chaos. People ran in all directions. Some remained frozen to the spot in a sort of terrified awe; it was these individuals Taichi had to watch for most, so captivated by the monsters battling hundreds of meters above they would have missed getting run over by a train, let alone a teenaged soccer captain.

As it was, he utilized ever soccer skill committed to muscle memory to weave through the dense population.

"Hikari!"

He paused only once at one of the larger intersections, cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify his voice. A few seconds of no response, and he took off once more. Around him, people were beginning to take shelter in some of the street shops, peppering the display windows and open doorways with wide-eyed expressions. A few officers were scattered, doing their best to maintain professional composure all while unable to hide the uncertainty in their own expressions.

His sister was nowhere to be seen among them.

"Hikari, where are you?" Calling out once more, Taichi nearly tripped at the sound of a large crash came from above.

He looked up, and to his horror, saw the pair of Digimon for the first time. Parrotmon, a being he could have recognized in his sleep, was fighting...at a glance, he could have sworn the silhouette bore a resemblance to Greymon, with that horned helmeted head, but a second glance revealed a much leaner frame. The wings were wrong, the way it moved...so erratic, but swift. Limber. Each time Parrotmon let out a cry, it was because his opponent had struck yet another blow. High and higher into the sky, only to turn around and send it crashing directly into one of the rooftops below.

The impact not only sent a shock-wave even Taichi could feel from where he stood, but sprinkled the streets below with debris.

Still...Taichi's eyes narrowed. It was clear to his trained eye the difference in power levels between the two, and yet…

"He's holding back." He watched Parrotmon move to stand, head shaking in attempt to brush off the latest blow, only to get knock right back down again by the mysterious opponent. "He's not trying to win. Or Parrotmon would've already...it's more like he's trying to...distract? Contain?"

A few more steps, and Taichi rounded the next street corner. Only then did he realize there was a third figure involved. One significantly smaller than the other two, and standing on the edge of the opposite rooftop. Something in their hand glinted in the afternoon sunlight, and Taichi's eyes widened.

"Is that-?"

Movement. To his left.

Taichi spun on his heels, fists clenched at his sides...and saw his sister standing nearby.

"...Hikari!"

A heavy weight lifted from his chest as he signed in relief, quickly jogging over to her side. But if Hikari was aware of his approach, she gave very little indication. She too, was staring up at the ongoing battle. Brows furrowed in concern. A hand pressed to her chest. Occasionally, her lips would press together and her fist clenched that might tighter. Like she were in pain.

"Hikari..."

In pain, but unafraid.

Her eyes continued to follow each subsequent attack above with a practiced precision, taking in anything and everything she could. Not for the first time, Taichi was reminded of just how used to fighting his little sister was. How much of their life had been spent either actively involved, or paying witness.

No wonder she had yet to run away. Nor bat an eyelash at his approach, only turning to him when he gently tugged at her arm.

Their eyes met, and though Taichi could see his own certainty reflected in her eyes, it faltered at the reluctance in hers.

"...I know. Trust me, Hikari, I get it." His words were calm and calculated, in direct contrast to the rapid pounding of his heart. "But Agumon and Tailmon aren't here. There's nothing we can do."

For roughly half a second, it looked like Hikari would argue. Instead, she closed her mouth and nodded. Taichi's hand slid down her arm until it found her hand, clasping it firmly in his. Unwilling to risk getting separated again. With one eye lingering on the ensuing (albeit increasingly one-sided) battle above, he started out. Hikari was less than a step behind.

Hikari's cell rang. She used her free hand to reach into her pocket and answer.

" _Hikari-chan?"_

Takeru's voice stopped her in her tracks; feeling the pull, Taichi stopped as well, turning back in question. Her eyes remained locked with his and she nodded.

"We're here." She responded to the unspoken question. "Where they're fighting. A portal opened up in the sky as I was on my way to meet Miyako-san."

" _So she's there with you now?_ "

Hikari shook her head. "No. Oniichan is."

" _Taichi-san?_ " Hikari waited for Takeru to say more, but it was a series of muffled voices and audible distortion that followed. The phone was being shuffled around, and when things settled, it was Yamato's voice she heard next: " _Put him on_."

She pulled the phone away from her ear just long enough to stare at it before obliging, handing Taichi her cell without explanation. He, too, seemed confused at the situation, wondering what Takeru needed to say to him he couldn't say to Hikari. However, he barely had time to lift the receiver to his ear before they both heard Yamato shouting from the other end:

" _ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO ANSWERING YOUR PHONE?!"_

Wincing, Taichi recoiled back so quickly he nearly dropped the phone. He allowed a split second's time to glare heatedly at it before switching the audio to speaker instead.

"What are you, my girlfriend?" He snapped back, not waiting for Yamato to respond before adding: "I don't have it on me. The minute I realized what was happening, I took off. My bag's still at school."

" _Is there anyone else with you?_ " Takeru's voice came through, most likely in an attempt to curb a potential fight between the older boys.

"Yeah. A bunch of people panicking." Taichi frowned as he looked around. The crowds had thinned considerably in the last thirty seconds, but he could still hear screaming in the distance. "It's like Vamdemon all over again."

"Or Hikarigaoka," Hikari added softly.

As was often the case with the young girl, there was something about the way she spoke the name of the Chosen Children's former home that gave Taichi pause. He spared her a sideways glance, only to find her looking up once more. Still taking in the battle.

On a hunch, Taichi followed her gaze. He saw...essentially more of the same.

"Taichi!"

"Taichi-san!"

A pair of voices called to him in the distance, and when he looked in the direction they came from, he saw two varying shades of auburn making their way over.

His lips twisted upward in an amused smirk. "Sora! Koushiro! Over here!"

The former appeared to be having a much easier time of things, jogging over to the Yagami siblings with a weak, if concerned, smile. Koushiro, meanwhile, arrived seconds later with slightly flushed cheeks and an audible heaviness to his breathing. He stopped to rest his hands on his knees, slightly hunched over as he managed to get out:

"Good thing..." a gasp. "...we were out…" another gasp "...shopping today."

"What's going on, Taichi?" Sora's attention was split between the Chosen leader and the battle above. "Why are there Digimon in the real world again?"

"I don't know." He shook his head before turning to Koushiro. "I thought you said the portals were all closed."

"They...were..." Allowing himself one last, deep breath, the Chosen of Knowledge shrugged the backpack from his shoulders and knelt down. Undoing the clasps, he reached in and pulled out his favorite PinApple brand laptop—a recently upgraded model. The three remaining Chosen gathered around him as he opened and booted up the device, rapidly inputting a series of commands to pull up the desired program. An 'error' message popped up, and he shook his head. "They still are. We can't get through."

"And yet they did."

A fourth voice drew everyone's attention then, and they turned to find the Ishida/Takaishi brothers walking up the opposite street. Yamato made sure to send a fleeting heated glance Taichi's way—which the brunette promptly shrugged off—before coming up on Koushiro's other side, next to Sora.

"How'd you two get here so quickly?"

Maybe it was the casual nature of the question itself, but despite the current situation, Sora found herself rolling her eyes. "We were on a date." She echoed the same flat tone she'd given Taichi earlier.

Yamato snorted. "Yeah, right."

Below, the clacking of keys paused just long enough for Koushiro to mutter: "...seriously, why is it that hard for people to believe?"

"Hikari-chan..." Takeru spoke up then, and it was the concern to his tone that drew everyone's attention. Including the aforementioned girl, who seemed equally confused until he stepped forward and indicated downward. "You're bleeding."

Sure enough, when Hikari looked down, she saw a gash on her leg several centimeters in length just above the ankle. Her torn sock was drenched in blood on one side, parts of it so over-saturated that trickles were making their way down the side of her school loafers.

 _The crash._ When the above debris hit the ground, she must have been hit in the leg. In the heat of the moment, with so much adrenaline coursing through her veins...not to mention, distracted by her mysterious savior...she hadn't even noticed.

When she looked up again, Takeru was standing in front of her. He hesitated just long enough to smile reassuringly before tilting his head to remove the scarf around his neck. Then he knelt down and—as she watched in a silent awe—used the fabric to blot some of the area around the injury. Just enough to stop the trickling. From there, he wrapped the entire scarf around her leg several times before tying it off. Tight, but not so tight as to restrict movement.

Once satisfied with its security, he rose to his feet, smiling brightening as she continued to stare back with an unreadable expression on her face.

"...Takeru-kun..."

Several seconds of silence followed, in which the pair were either oblivious to or uncaring that they were being closely watched by both their brothers. And Sora, who looked equal parts worried and intrigued.

It was Koushiro's laptop that finally broke the spell, drawing everyone's attention back to the present. Wordlessly, the six of them crowded around to get a good look at the data filling in.

An image of Parrotmon appeared first, along with the usual Intel. None of it new. He was still registered as a Giant Bird Type at the Perfect Level. He still bore two Holy Rings, one on each ankle. His two main attacks involved flying at the speed of sound to create a series of shock waves and generating electricity in its feathers.

"Neither of which I've seen it do." Yamato pointed out.

"Probably because it hasn't had the chance." Taichi looked up just in time to see Parrotmon take another harsh blow to the sternum, and winced. "There comes a point when you almost start to feel sorry for him."

"Is there any way to tell if he's the same one from before?" Sora asked.

Koushiro shrugged. "There's no way of knowing for certain. Statistically, there's always a chance. If it saw a portal and recognized it for what it was because it had gone through one before. One this one didn't open up in the same place as it did ten years ago."

"Ten years ago, our time." Sora lightly amended. "The worlds were out of synch at one point, remember? We don't know how long it would have been for them."

"Actually-" Koushiro began, looking quite pleased with himself, before he was once more interrupted.

This time, by Yamato: "What about the other one?"

The question gave him little time to mourn the lack of shining spotlight. All the more because the process to identify the second Digimon would take longer. They were fighting at a greater distance, and he had even less information to go on. Still, once he managed to hone in on their signatures and filter out Parrotmon's data, a new entry appeared.

It was blank.

Koushiro blinked once at the vacant spot where the image profile would normally go. Twice at the distinct lack of characters filling in the text boxes. "What do you mean there's no data? There's ALWAYS data!"

"Maybe your database is out of date?" Taichi suggested.

Koushiro looked offended for a solid three seconds before realizing he had no adequate comeback.

"It's more than that..." Everyone turned back to Hikari, and she indicated upward. "Look. Around Parrotmon's ankles. Where the rings are."

They looked

For several tense seconds, their eyes remained locked on Parrotmon. Focusing on its legs. It was almost impossible to see, and at one point, even Koushiro was tempted to give up.

But then, Takeru let out a sharp gasp: "There!"

A flickering of sorts. Like static, only pink. Focusing primarily in the area around the Holy Rings. Each time it appeared, Parrotmon gave a loud screech. One that could easily be mistaken for a battle cry, particularly as its opponent continued to gain the upper hand. Blow after blow ensued, though with noticeably less intensity than before.

Parrotmon was weakening. His opponent not only recognized this, but was showing mercy.

"He's in pain." Hikari's knuckles were practically white. Her arm trembled, to the point where both Takeru and Sora were tempted to intervene. Yet she stood her ground, showing no other signs of wavering as she turned back to the others. Confident. "Whatever that is...it's hurting his heart."

Not one of them questioned how she knew this.

"Are you sure it's the cause?" Takeru asked gently, though even he seemed nearly convinced it was. "He's fighting a losing battle. It could just be the attacks."

"Or an updated version of his electricity-based attack." Koushiro suggested. Sounding even less certain than Takeru.

Hikari merely shook her head.

o

o

High above, the hooded figure was similarly focused on the pink static. Diverting his attention away from the battle long enough to check the readings on his wrist device.

"That's it." Confirmation aside, he was less than pleased at the finding. A deep frown appeared as he straightened before cupping his mouth with both hands and calling out: "Don't touch his legs! Aim for the wings!"

A growl was the only verbal response. Short and curt, like the Digimon equivalent of a snort.

Allowing a sheepish smile, he shrugged. "Right. You already knew that, didn't you?"

In an attempt to further prove his point, his partner proceeded to wait just long enough for Parrotmon to take a sluggish swipe at him before dodging back. But not before executing a spinning kick to his shoulder, just hard enough to knock the Giant Bird Type flat on its back. His body twitched several times before falling still.

"See, now you're just showing off." His partner grinned, hands proudly coming to sit on his hips. The air of victory lasted approximately three seconds before the air between them began to twist and warp, and he recognized what was happening even before the portal ripped open. "...oh, _now_ it decides to show up. How thoughtful."

A series of nonverbal gestures were exchanged, and the remaining conscious Digimon lifted his foe over his head. Quite the site, given the blatant size difference between the two. Yet Parrotmon may as well have been the size of a Chuumon, for all the effort it took to roughly toss him off the roof, directly into the open portal.

" _You did it._ " Her voice rang in his ear, and he couldn't decide if she sounded relieved or proud. He liked to think it was the latter. " _Now see if you-_ "

Not for the first time, however, he ignored what she had to say next in favor of exchanging a look with his partner. And a knowing grin.

In near perfect unison, the two jumped from opposite sides into the air, only to be swallowed up by the portal just before it faded.

o

o

"NO!"

The young woman shot up in her seat, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. For the next few seconds, she heard nothing but the sound of blood pumping in her ears. Saw nothing but the vital signs being displayed across one of the smaller screens. A hand came upon her shoulder, attempting to offer a comforting weight, but she quickly shrugged it off and stepped forward.

Reaching up, she pressed on the ear piece in desperate attempt to detect even the faintest sounds indicating-

" _You know, if I lose hearing in that ear, I won't be able to hear you yelling at me._ "

At the sound of his voice, strong (and cocky) as ever, she felt her knees go weak. Closing her eyes, a single deep breath was all it took before she slowly lowered herself back in her seat.

"Maybe if you stopped doing stupid things all the time, I wouldn't have to yell at you." She replied after a moment's pause. Her voice not even cracking once. "What do you think you're doing? That wasn't part of the mission."

" _It kind of is. I mean, we need answers, right? Can't think of a better place to find them than here."_

"No, what we need is help. According to our readings, six of them were right there."

" _But not the rest. Including the Wild Card._ " There was a moment of auditory distortion, and she felt her heart start to speed up again before his voice returned. " _Besides...it's getting late. You know I'll have a much better chance of finding a good place to sleep here than there._ "

"But-"

" _Sweet Dreams!_ "

The gentle click of him disconnecting on his end may as well have been a thunderous boom, the way it echoed in her ear. Recoiling, she was left for several seconds afterward in a stunned silence. Jaw slack. Waiting for him to reconnect and tell her he was just joking.

Ten seconds such signal came. Slowly, she removed the headpiece from her ear. Knowing it would be hours before he attempted contact again.

"Well?" A deep voice from behind asked. The only one who dared speak because he was the only one not intimidated.

She allowed herself time to remember herself before turning back with the most deadpan tone she could muster: "If he manages to survive all this, I'm going to kill him myself."

Behind the cigarette, his lips twitched upward.

o

o

o

It was a little difficult managing the bottle of sanitizing alcohol in one hand, cotton swab in the other, and balancing her cell against her ear, but somehow, Sora prevailed.

Her mother was taking the news surprisingly well. Sometimes, she forgot just how much credit the older woman was owed. For all the early years of strenuous relationship between them, she had been one of the first to come around to the idea of her daughter being a Chosen. Rivaling Hikari and Taichi's mother only in terms of accepting nature towards the Digimon and what their continued presence in the Real World signified.

"I'll be home in a little while, mama." Sora reassured on her end, wiping away the last of the blood from Hikari's leg. This gave her an opportunity to finally put down both the swap and bottle, freeing her hands enough to alleviate the burden from her neck. "Right after dinner. Yagami-san insisted I stay." A slight pause, and she bit back a small laugh. "Of course I'll tell her you said hello. Bye-bye."

With the conversation ended, Sora returned her attention to the young girl sitting on the bed...and her smile quickly faded.

Hikari looked about a million miles away. Barely flinching as the alcohol came into contact with her open wound. Nor did she respond to the pressure of the gauze Sora pressed against it. Nor the bandages tightly wrapped around her leg. They were large enough to be obvious to anyone, even beneath her knee-high socks, so perhaps it was fortunate for her the attack had been so public this time. She wouldn't have to think of some other excuse for the injury.

Satisfied with her work, Sora stood up, looking to Hikari for a response. She received none, and when she followed Hikari's distant gaze, she saw her looking at the bloodied scarf sitting on the edge of her bed. Takeru's scarf.

"I can wash that," Sora offered.

But Hikari shook her head. "No. I'll do it." She leaned over just enough to pick it up, holding the stained fabric in both hands. "It's the least I could do."

"It was very kind of him." Sora commented lightly. Watching Hikari's expression carefully for any signs of a reaction as she came to sit on the bed beside her. "He still looks after you, even now, doesn't he?"

She expected a smile. Or at least the ghost of one.

"...I wish he wouldn't," the younger girl murmured softly as she got up.

Sora followed her movements in confusion, wondering what she meant by that.

o

o

Taichi was sitting on the couch in the main room, leaning forward with his arms resting on both knees. His mother was in the adjacent kitchen, sipping from a glass of juice as she added a bit more seasoning to their evening meal. At one point, she asked him something about setting the table. He didn't seem to hear.

Instead, his eyes were glued to the news broadcast discussing that day's attack. Stock footage of past Digimon sightings, some consisting of amateur video footage while others still images, flashed across the screen while the reporters did their best to explain away the event.

"I can help," he barely registered Sora's voice emerging from Hikari's room.

"That's sweet of you to offer, Sora," his mother tutted in return, and he could have imagined her waving a dismissive hand if he bothered to pay the conversation more attention. "But just because I think of you as a daughter doesn't mean you're not still a guest. Unless you think you can grab Taichi's attention long enough to get him to help you."

A few more exchanges between them followed, but Taichi was instead drawn to the sudden shift in weight as Hikari came to sit beside him. He glanced at her leg just long enough to affirm Sora had done a fantastic job seeing to her leg before returning to the news broadcast.

The anchors were talking about Hikarigaoka now, and his frown deepened.

"What are we going to do, Taichi?" Sora asked him, coming to sit on his other side.

His hands gripped the remote tightly. "I...don't know." He answered truthfully. "Part of me wants to believe this was a one-time thing. But we know better, don't we?"

Her silence was one of affirmation. Weight awkwardly shifted against the seat, and it was from sheer exhaustion alone that Taichi allowed himself to relax against the back cushions, sinking into them with the weight of everything he was feeling right then.

"Koushiro said he was going to look into it." Sora spoke up again, even though she was only repeating what they already knew. "He still has contacts all over the world. With luck, one of them might know something."

Taichi sat up at that, her words recalling something else to mind: "What about that guy on the roof?"

"What guy?"

"He looked like Gennai." Hikari spoke up then, and they both turned to look at her. "But it wasn't him."

"You could see from that high up?" Taichi asked, brows raising.

She shook her head. "No."

"Then how…?"

"Who was he, Hikari?" Sora asked.

There was a long pause on her end.

"...I have no idea."

The weight of those four words, coming from Hikari, of all people, left Taichi and Sora in an uneasy silence.

Koushiro was generally considered the uncontested Genius of the group. He was the bearer or Knowledge, after all. But there were often times when even he would concede to Hikari's eerily confident awareness of things regarding the Digital World. And if this was something even she had no answer to? Not even the slightest inference?

For perhaps the first time since their Digital World Adventure began, Taichi had the feeling they were navigating completely uncharted territory.

o

o

o

The room was dark. The curtains, drawn. Only the faint glow of the computer monitor provided any light at all, casting shadows upon the young woman's face that made her seem far older than her years.

As did the deep frown she bore.

" _I realize this is not the time to say 'I told you so'-_ "

"Then don't," she snapped at the man on the other end of the line. Unflinching at either the low chuckle it earned her or the way the screen flickered in and out as a result of the weak connection. "It's nothing we weren't already prepared for."

" _And yet he somehow managed to get the jump on you so quickly, he took out the threat before you had a chance to mobilize_."

"He got lucky," A very unlady-like snort echoed into the air. Leaning back in her chair, she folded her arms across her chest. It was a subconsciously defensive movement the man seemed to pick up on, and the second she caught hints of a smirk on his irritating features, she dropped the arms to her sides. "This whole damn department was created specifically for this reason. To study. To train. To prepare."

" _And to protect,_ " He added, though they both knew well enough she hadn't intended any more. It was as if he were finishing a moto not her own. " _Yet, despite all that, it still won't be enough_."

"You don't know that."

" _Actually, I do. Better than you think_."

"You don't know what I think."

" _Wrong again. I know exactly how you think. Because I thought the same way. We all did. And, just as you will be, we were buried by our own hubris. In the end...they truly are the only ones who can make a difference."_

She snorted again, uncaring at the lack of professionalism in her response. "You're telling me I should leave the safety of this world to a bunch of children."

" _Children who have literally been fighting this fight since before your Department formed_."

She opened her mouth to comment back, but hesitated when another figure stepped forward. The only other person in the room, and not because he'd been granted permission. Still, she turned to acknowledge him with the thinnest of patience.

"I think you should hear him out."

"Don't think," She muttered back. "You're no good at it."

"Harsh." He sounded undeterred by the biting comment. Far used to her demeanor. Especially when she knew she was in a losing battle but prepared to fight to the end. "You can get your own coffee next all-nighter, then."

An awkward cough interrupted them. "Much as I hate to disrupt a good lovers' spat, I still need an answer."

"And here's mine."

Practically slamming her hand down on the keyboard, she ended the connection right there and then. The smug face she was already growing to hate was replaced with a black screen, its surrounding illumination allowing her own scowl to reflect back at her. As did the face of the man behind her.

"If you're going to stand there and judge me, you may as well give me something useful in the meantime."

His reflection looked close to mirroring the smug man's for a split second before a cough to cover it up, followed by the retrieval of a small envelope. When he spoke next, he was reading from its contents.

"Two are still unaccounted for, but the rest are set to convene Friday evening. It's unknown whether or not they're aware of the American's presence." A pause, and he risked closing the file before, in a more personal tone, asked: "Should we intercept?"

"If you still need to ask me that, you really are no good at thinking."

Tempting as it would have been to smile, he instead maintained his professional aura as he clicked his heels together, straightening his posture. "Ma'am."

With that, he turned to exit the room and convey the new orders. The light from the hallway was bright, and she averted her eyes until the door clicked shut again, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

"...he thinks I don't know." She sat back in her chair with a heavy sigh, eyes falling to a small picture frame on the edge of her desk. "But the truth is...we knew better than anyone. Didn't we, Tapirmon?"


	4. FOUR

Dear readers, I...may have gone a little overboard this time.

Yes, yes, I know I've said that before. But I think this one really takes the cake, even for me. How do I know this? Well, let me put it this way: this will be the first story I've ever written where the outlines and notes needed diagrams drawn to keep it all straight.

See, after the first couple of chapters went up, I deliberately took a pause. (Okay, there were a number of factors in my latest hiatus, but that was the biggest one.) Started expanding more on what I had. Did some research. Then some more research. WAY more than I did for **Pandora's Box**. New ideas started to form. New scenes. Twists on ones I had already written. Building on more than vague notions of ideas I'd originally started with.

I still meant what I said last chapter about TRI being too all over the place, and wanting to avoid that...but now I think I can actually make all this fit together.

Probably.

I guess we'll find out together, won't we?

(*But, no, it's still not going to have Sorato. Sorry, Sorato fans. If it's any consolation, though, I can assure you that I don't do bashing in my stories. In fact. I do love the Yama-Tai-Sora brot3, so you'll still get little in-jokes and moments of them together. Like in this chapter. And while I never intend for them to indicate anything more...well...in the end, interpretation can often be left up to reader preference. can't it?)

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

Warm sunlight caressed the young man's already bronzed skin as he lay atop the grassy hill. A cool breeze carried with it the scent of nearby flora. Several meters below his feet, at the base, he could hear the steady flow of river water rushing by and no other sounds. It was peaceful. Serene. A virtual paradise.

Or, to be more precise, a Digital one.

The hour was early still and, combined with the near-hypnotic aesthetic of the moment, he allowed himself a little longer. Eyes closed. Breathing deep before exhaling in a slow, whimsical sigh. How long had it been since he'd felt so relaxed? Weeks? Months?

Blades of soft grass brushed against the comm bud still tucked in one ear. A constant reminder. He'd had his reasons for cutting the signal when he had, yes, but more than once, he'd wallowed in the notion of reconnecting. He was already in deep and he knew it. A few more hours wouldn't make things any worse for him. In theory, he could even just take out the bud until the screaming stopped. He'd done it before. Unless, of course, he somehow figured out a way to sweet-talk—

The ground beneath him shook. An inhumane roar echoed into the air, its source so close, he could feel the reverberations in his chest.

Unflinching, he peeked one eye open. "What, run out of prey already?"

A second roar. Louder than the first. Only shorter. More curt. Then a sound only he could interpret as a low snort.

Chuckling softly, the young man finally sat up. It took more effort than he'd figured. His muscles had relaxed enough that he could actually feel the persistent knots in his neck and shoulder. A yawn rose to the surface, and he lifted his arms up and over his head to stretch, hearing the satisfying pops when cranking his head to one side.

In the distance, a flock of Piyomon took flight, leaves rustling in their wake.

A deep growl—no, two growls. One coming from his stomach. The other, emitted from the throat of his increasingly anxious partner.

"You can't be that desperate for a fight. They're Child level at best." He rose to his feet, brushing the dirt and grass from his robe. Giving his partner a quick once-over-(as suspected, not only was there no signs of injury, but the creature practically shook from excess energy still in need of expelling)-he started for the bank below. "Give me a few to properly wake up and we can go hunt down some breakfast together."

The water was cool and refreshing and it tingled the skin of his hand when he cupped it beneath the surface. It tasted as pure as anything he'd ever drank. Three times, he drew from the natural source before a fourth cup was used to splash his whole face, washing away the last remnants of sleep.

He then paused long enough in his morning routine to catch a glimpse of his reflection. Bold, blue eyes stared back. Ready and alert.

" _You should not be here."_

He tensed at the sudden voice, eerily serene as it was. There was a presence behind him now, and in that same reflection he saw a second pair of blue eyes. Or, rather, eyes that were supposed to be blue.

"Yeah, you said that the last time." Feigning composure, he took his time in standing, all the while keeping the Tapirmon's reflection in his peripheral line of sight. And those eyes that should have been blue but were not. "You look different. Did you change your hair or something?"

If the entity within were capable of conveying disdain towards his attempt at humor, it would have done so. As it was, all he received was the usual grayish, hazy-eyed stare that send a chill down his spine.

Suppressing a shiver, the young man abruptly pivoted to his right and reached up to place both hands behind his head. He gave no indication of acknowledging the entity directly, though when he started down the river bank in a leisure stroll, it floated along right behind him. Keeping pace with ease.

Behind them both, the heavy footsteps of his partner followed.

"So." Thirty seconds of silence passed before he tried speaking again. In that time, reverting back to an air of passive casualty. "I assume you're not here to bring us breakfast."

" _Your assumption is correct."_

Well, that got him absolutely nowhere. "And if I were to ask why you are here?"

" _You would be asking a question to which you already know the answer_."

He risked a downward glance at that, following the rippling image of them both. The Tapirmon gave no indication of any facial expression of any kind. Neither annoyed nor relieved. Angry nor pleased. It was one of the entity's most infuriating aspects—the sheer lack of emotion. How was he supposed to know where he stood in a conversation like that?

"You want me to leave." A guess.

" _It is not about want._ "

"Alright. You're here to tell me to leave."

" _Merely warn. Advice it would be wise to heed._ "

"And if we don't?"

Silence.

It took him several steps before he realized he was suddenly walking alone; the Tapirmon had ceased all movement, and was resigned to simply stare after his back. Stare, but not really. As if it were in an even deeper trance than one already possessed could possibly be. Seeing something beyond what was physically there.

This time, he did shiver.

" _If my analysis of your being is accurate, then you already know this as well._ "

He knew he would regret asking. "What analysis?"

" _That your abstruse insistence upon a facade of casualty and ignorance is merely to conceal from those closest to you the true depths of your actual intelligence."_

He was right.

He supposed he shouldn't have been that surprised. The entity was, as far as he had ever known, as close to omnipotent as any being in the Digital World. Everywhere and nowhere at once. And while he was still fairly certain it couldn't actually read his mind, there had been too many instances in the past where he'd allowed himself to be Seen. Back when he was too young and too naive to know better.

"Why does it feel like you just complimented and insulted me in the same breath?"

On some level, that much was kind of impressive. There were very few who could accomplish such a feat. One other than came to mind.

" _I assure you, my words carry no bias. There are strictly empirical._ " Tapirmon hovered closer, closing most of the remaining gap between them. He had to crank his neck downward to meet its piercing gaze, yet there was something about the entity that made him feel like the small one. " _Perhaps you have grown since we last spoke. Perhaps my current host does not resemble the form of your memories. Such things are immaterial. You can no more change your true nature than I...and it is that very nature that leads you to conceal not only your possession of such knowledge, but to deceive even those you deliberately ceased contact with prior to your reentry into this World."_

If was as if the wind had been knocked from his lungs in a single, forceful blow. "You...know about that?"

" _I know many things_."

Panic swelled from within. His eyes widened at first. Then darkened. All signs of his previous demeanor had vanished. Only the hardened warrior remained.

"You can't tell h—them. Not yet. Not until I can be sure this is what I think it is."

" _I have no more intention of relaying excessive information to them as I do to yourself_." Tapirmon stated. In no uncertain terms. However, before he could begin to formulate a counter argument in his mind, it added: " _There are only two things I will tell you now. You are free to accept them, or reject what I have to say. I cannot force you to do either."_

A small part of him wondered if this was some sort of trap. But then...that had never really been the entity's method of operation, had it?

He folded his arms across his chest. A glance was sent back towards his partner, who had remained uncharacteristically still in the preceding moments. "We're listening."

" _The first thing I will tell you is that your theories are, indeed, correct. Most of them, anyways. Nearly everything you hypothesized about the Anomaly is true with regards to its origin and projected course._ "

There was a lump forming in his throat. He tried to wallow, but it didn't budge. It only grew tighter. True, the entity was simply telling him what he already knew...well, long suspected...but there was something incredibly powerful about hearing such validation. Particularly when he'd spent all that time wishing so desperately to have been wrong.

"And the second?"

" _That such a threat is not even the greatest at hand."_

His partner let out another roar then, feet shuffling back and forth as it sensed his unease. If that was even the right word to describe just how he felt. He raised one hand in signal, but it was enough to hold the creature at bay. Barely.

"How many?" He finally asked. His voice grim. Shadows darkening his once bright eyes. "You're telling me that the greatest threat my World has ever seen doesn't compare to what you say is coming. Which means it's more than my World in danger. More than yours. So I'm going to ask just one last time: How. Many?"

Tapirmon's head bowed before tilting its neck to look at him directly. Rays of sunlight bounced off the holy ring banded around one arm, a symbol of its blessed status among digimon. And a reminder of what was perpetually at stake.

" _All of them_."

o

o

The train car lurched forward, accompanied by muted rattling sounds of metal grinding against metal on the tracks below. Above the far exit, voiceless announcements indicated current and upcoming stations. An otherwise quiet, peaceful beginning to the journey ahead.

Until…

"I can't believe we missed it!"

Daisuke's cries of protest echoed through the compartment, only to be ignored by all but the three sitting closest to him. Two bore gracefully sheepish expressions. The third remained undecided in his reaction.

"We really are sorry, Daisuke-kun." To his immediate right, Hikari attempted an apology.

"Can you ever forgive us?" Takeru's response, on the other hand, carried far less sincerity behind it.

Muttering a few choice words under his breath, Daisuke slumped further back into his chair. He folded his arms across his chest, blew a few wisps of hair from his eyes, and proceeded to focus the remainder of his energy in sending a heated glare Takeru's way. Clearly identifying the blonde as the guiltier of the two by process of being unable to stay mad at Hikari for long.

The sole female of the quartet let out an audible sigh before exchanging a discreet Look with Takeru.

Daisuke saw.

Just like he saw the small bag on the ground by Takeru's feet. The very same bag Hikari had been carrying earlier that day, when they'd all met up at the station. He'd caught her pulling Takeru aside at one point to give it to him, but when he'd asked, neither were willing to offer any explanation. A subsequent peek inside revealed it was just some rolled up fabric, but to him, it was one more thing they were keeping secret.

Not the fun kind of secret, either. The kind that made him feel irrationally left out of whatever world the two seemed to share since the day Takeru strolled into their classroom at Odaiba Elementary. Was he being childish? Probably. But in his mind, he was completely justified.

After all, friends don't let friends find out about surprise digimon attacks in the Real World from Channel 4 News.

"We know. We really should have called you." Meanwhile, Hikari was still trying to offer an olive branch. He could tell because she was smiling at him in that very particular way. She'd used that same smile on nearly every other Chosen at some point during their many years of friendship. It worked every time. "It's just...well...it was over so quickly. Almost nothing actually happened."

"Almost," he echoed bitterly, though concern crept its way into his tone as his eyes fell upon the thick bandage wrapped around her ankle.

She'd gotten hurt. Taichi and Takeru had both been right there—so far as Daisuke knew, anyhow—and she'd still been injured. The only one. Regardless of whatever feelings he'd let go of in the past, Hikari was still one of his most precious friends. She always would be. And the thought of her getting hurt when he hadn't been given a chance to protect her…

As if sensing his thoughts, Hikari quickly crossed her legs, tucking the injured ankle behind the other. The fact that she wouldn't even look at Takeru right then told Daisuke just how bad she felt about worrying them, and the thought was enough to sober him.

A little.

"We still don't have anymore answers now than we did when it happened, do we?" Iori chose that moment to speak up, having remained silent through most of Daisuke's outburst. His face was even more serious than usual; Takeru couldn't help note that the rims of his eyes looked red.

The blonde shook his head. "Koushiro-san's been at it for days."

He indicated towards the older boy, sitting across the aisle from them. PineApple book in lap, he remained as lost to the world as ever as he continued typing away. Every so often, the clacking of keys would cease just long enough for him make an adjustment to the portable satellite receiver plugged into one side. Three separate windows were open on the screen at any given time, and two of the shelved icons were constantly blinking with the receiving of messages.

"He mentioned something about analyzing the code of the digimon identification program. I think that unidentified digimon bothers him even more than the portals."

Koushiro abruptly froze in place. Just long enough to let out a single sneeze. After that, he was right back to work as if nothing happened. Beside him, a sleeping Jou muttered something unintelligible before settling back down with his head resting against the window pane.

"Did he mention how many portals were spotted in all?" Iori continued his questions.

"That's just it." Takeru's brows furrowed in lingering confusion. He leaned forward enough to rest his elbows against his knees. Even though the only current occupants of the compartment were all Chosen, he still sought to keep his voice low. "We're not sure. There's been some talk of others around the city, but the only confirmed sightings were the ones in that area. And even then, reports are mixed. Some say there were only two in all. Some say as many as four."

"But what do—"

He was cut off as simultaneous groans emitted from the back of the car, drawing everyone's attention.

Yamato, Taichi, and Sora were all sitting cross-legged on the ground, and judging from all three of their expressions, the latter had just won whatever latest exchange passed between them. Taichi, in particular, was leaning so far back on his hands that his head was tilted directly towards the ceiling.

"I thought you said you taught her this game."

Yamato's head, on the other hand, was bowed. "I did."

"I'm a quick study." Sora grinned at them both as she leaned forward to gather up the pile of cards and begin reshuffling. "Another round?"

Yamato lifted his head just long enough to send her a defeated, puppy-eyed stare. "Why do you hate us?"

Takeru had to bite back a laugh as he watched the scene unfold. Though, more than once, he found his gaze shifting to the girl sitting directly across from him. Hikari was also watching their brothers get destroyed, and there was a certain glint in her eye that made Takeru wonder if she was seeing the same things he saw.

At one point, she caught him staring and turned back in silent question.

Visibly unfazed, he gave his usual smile. Warm and bright and instantly suspicious, judging from the way her eyes narrowed.

"It really is like nothing happened," Iori stated softly. When the three younger Chosen turned back, they saw his head bowed as well, though for reasons far beyond that of a lost card game. "Almost as if..."

He trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

Daisuke straightened his his seat, prior grievances forgotten at the sight of the forlorn boy. He opened his mouth to say something, but when the right words never came, closed it and remained silent. Frowning deeply.

"We'll find them." Takeru placed a hand on Iori's shoulder. Having lived in the same complex the last few years, he understood how strong their bond was. Even before they were Chosen together, Miyako had been like an older sister to him. And Ken… "It's only been a few days. There are any number of places they could have gone."

"Or Worlds," Daisuke added, hoping the allusion would bring Iori some peace of mind.

It didn't.

"Do you really think they're back in the Digital World?"

"Sure!" The declaration came out a bit more jovially than originally intended. To further his point, he reclined into his seat while resting both hands behind his head. "Process of elimination. Portals appearing with digimon in them, plus that weird static-y noise Hikari-chan heard over the phone."

"I don't think..." Iori began.

Daisuke was quick to cut him off. "On top of that, Ken's still not answering his phone. There's only one thing that would keep him from returning any of my calls. They finally found a working portal and went for it. I'd have done the same thing if I were them. Although..." He paused in his theory just long enough to rub at his nose with one finger. "I mean, I know she's cute and all, but you'd think the least he could've done was give his best friend a heads up he was going on an inter-dimensional date."

"...you think Miyako-san's cute?" Ever observant, Takeru honed in on the particular choice of phrasing at once. He could already feel Hikari's chastising gaze on him before he finished speaking and was happy to feign obliviousness for her sake.

Daisuke only realized his gaffe when it was too late. Mouth left agape for several seconds, he finally resigned himself to a shrug: "Only when she's not around."

A piercing screech came from outside as the train came to a sudden, abrupt stop.

Inertia took over, sending nearly everyone forward. In the back, cards and limbs went flying. Closer to the front, Koushiro and a semi-conscious Jou found themselves in an undignified heap. Daisuke managed to reflexively hold out one arm to keep Hikari safe, only to lose his own balance and topple over, face-first. Only Takeru and Iori were spared, having been sitting in backwards seats during the trip.

"What the-" they heard Taichi exclaim.

"What's happened?" Sora rose to her knees, habitually doing a head count. "Is everyone alright?"

"Are we there yet?" Jou called out weakly.

The speakers chimed in, an automated woman's voice cheerfully announcing that there would be a "slight" delay due to "unforeseen events", and requesting all passengers remain in their seats.

"...great." Daisuke moaned as he pulled himself up. He made it as far as his chin in the seat before giving up. "Maybe Ken had the right idea after all. If we end up late in picking Mimi-san up, I might want to run and hide in the Digital World too."

o

o

A flash of light brown hair was the last thing Sora saw before abruptly being swept up in a crushing embrace.

"Sora-san! I've missed you so much!"

Laughter rang out between the two teen girls as Sora returned the hug, a scene that drew more than a few looks from passer-by's. The rest of the group, meanwhile, stood off to one side with expressions ranging from amused to embarrassed to borderline indifferent. None dare intrude upon the moment.

Though at one point, Daisuke did lean slightly to one side, placing a hand over his mouth as he whispered to Iori: "Maybe she wouldn't have noticed us staying home after all."

"That's what you think, Daisuke-kun!"

The boy let out a faint yelp at having been heard, body straightening fully as his eyes went wide.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Mimi was the first to pull away, but only so she could reach for Sora's hands. Holding them both tightly in hers. "Ugh, it's so good to see you again! I don't even care that you're all a half hour late."

"Twenty minutes," Daisuke murmured under his breath.

"You have no idea how good it feels to be back in Tokyo. There are a few places in New York that are kinda similar, but it's just not the same." Fourteen hours on a plane later, Mimi's eyes still sparkled behind fresh makeup as she continued on in an increasingly rapid-fire pace. "There's about a thousand things I have to tell you that happened to me this week alone and I want to hear all about our school and the clubs and oh my gosh, you changed your hair!"

Taichi and Yamato blinked in unison: "You did?"

Takeru shook his head in disappointment.

"M...Mimi-chan..." Feeling out of breath from only listening, Sora gave a weak laugh at her best friend's...enthusiasm. "How much caffine did you drink on the plane?"

"Not much. Only about a dozen cups. Fifteen, at the most."

"Ah! Look who is is, honey!" A chipper voice rang out, and the group turned to see a lovely woman waving with all the enthusiasm of someone who had definitely given birth to Mimi Tachikawa. "I see you finally found your friends, Mimi-chan. How wonderful! Your father and I were just on our way to load up the luggage now."

Smilingly brightly, she gestured towards the extra large trolley her husband was just barely able to peek his head out from. Despite the beads of sweat pooling around his brow, he too was nothing but cheer as he took in the sight of his precious only daughter's happiness.

"Remember to call us if you all plan on staying out late tonight. Alright, sweetie?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Oh, my!" Mimi's mother exclaimed, startling everyone within a three meter radius. She rushed forward, and this time. It was Hikari who found her hands abruptly held captive. "Hikari-chan! And Takeru-kun! You've both grown up so much since your last visit."

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Tachikawa-san." Takeru offered a polite bow in greeting to the woman who had hosted him and Hikari during their summer in America. Somehow maintaining his full composure all the while.

"And you, young lady! Almost as lovely as my Mimi-chan. I can just imagine what the boys must think. You don't have a boyfriend yet, do you?"

Rather than blush at the boldness of such a question...Hikari actually grinned, eyes sparkling with the threat of mischief: "Oniichan wishes."

Everyone froze.

Taichi could literally feel the pairs of eyes on him even before his brain had time to fully process what his little sister had just said. And done. When it finally did catch up, he was left with no other choice but to heave an audible sigh. Shoulders slumped in preemptive defeat.

"Don't ask."

He already knew this wouldn't be the last he'd hear of it.

Mimi, in particular, continued to linger her gaze suspiciously on Taichi for several seconds longer. The scent of delicious gossip was in the air. More delicious than those complimentary cup noodles Cathay Pacific kept in stock on every flight.

At one point, her suspicions switched their attention to Takeru, hoping the younger boy might offer a hint. Or a different flavor of gossip. Much to her dismay, even he seemed as out of the loop as everyone else.

But out of the corner of her eye, she did catch Jou coming up on her father's left, courteously bowing his head before aiding in the removal of one of the several duffle bags hanging around the man's neck. This was tossed over his own shoulder with surprising ease as a few subsequent words were exchanged between them. Most too soft for her to make out. Once her father pointed in a particular direction, they started for the exit together, each bearing half the weight of the trolley.

It was a sight that entertained Mimi far more than it probably should have. So much so that it nearly didn't dawn on her until they were halfway down the corridor, her mother trailing behind with the last of her pleasantry exchanges in her wake:

"Jou-senpai!"

Fortunately, her lungs were powerful enough to reach him at that distance. The trolley came to a stop, and the boy in question glanced back over his shoulder.

"Okonomiyaki! Same place as last time!"

The oldest of the Chosen and bearer of the Crest of Sincerity gave a single hand raised in acknowledgment before turning back.

"I didn't know Jou-senpai knew your parents so well," Sora commented.

"Oh, that?" Mimi readjusted the strap of her purse. "Papa's been helping him out with some big, secret project for most of this past year. I just figured it had something to do with his school exams, since that's all he ever seems to talk about anymore."

Her arm slid into Sora's, and with a single tug, began leading her through the airport towards the other exit. The rest of the group followed close behind.

Except one.

While most were caught up in listening to Mimi, it was Iori who realized there was a Chosen among them who had not only not spoken once the entire time they'd been at the airport...but that he technically was no longer among them. Concerned, he looked back.

"...Koushiro-senpai?"

The boy in question had been staring off to one side for some time now, looking like he were lost in a fog. At the sound of his name, he immediately snapped back to the present. Offering a weak laugh at having been caught daydreaming.

"Sorry. I'm coming."

Concern was still evident in his eyes, but Iori said nothing further. He simply nodded before turning back around, rushing to catch up with the others.

Only when Koushiro was certain he wasn't looking did the smile fade. His eyes narrowed as he risked one last glance to the far corner of the terminal lobby to confirm his suspicions.

Those same two men were still standing against the same pillar. Together, they alternated between glancing around and speaking in hushed tones into some sort of handheld device. More than once, Koushiro had seen them looking in the direction of the Chosen group.

Airport Security? Maybe. Except…

He was fairly certain their uniforms didn't include upscale, black business suits.

o

o

Batter sizzled on the hot grill in front of them as it was poured, a sound all but completely drowned out by the frivolity of laughter among childhood friends.

Mimi remained at the center of it all, positioning herself right in the middle of the long table. At her insistence, she was flanked on either side by Hikari and Sora. The three were presently exchanging cell phone images and bouts of giggles at a rate that made more than a few of their male companions uneasy.

On the other side, Takeru and Yamato were deeply engaged in discussion over okonomiyaki batter. What had begun as a casually back and forth of favorite mixes soon evolved into a high-stakes battle in which the topic of hot sauce wove its way in and out of conversation at random intervals. Yamato was clearly working his way up to either another prank or an outright dare. Takeru, fully aware of what he brother was up to, went along with it anyway.

Taichi and Daisuke talked soccer, as they tended to at every given opportunity. Between Taichi's position as captain of his team and Daisuke's ongoing bid for captain of his, there was no shortage of advice and strategies being offered. It was one of the few times someone had Daisuke's full and undivided attention.

Koushiro and Iori took up two of the remaining seats, at either end of the table. The youngest of the group seemed content with sipping his tea as he watched the Great Hot Sauce Debate unfold before his very eyes. Koushiro, meanwhile, remained occupied with ruffling through his backpack.

When the PineApple book made its appearance once more, Mimi cut herself off mid-sentence to send him a disapproving look.

"Seriously? You brought your laptop to lunch?"

"I don't understand the question."

"Let it go, Mimi-chan." Sora managed though a wave of giggles. She leaned forward to flip her latest order. As always, her timing was perfect, leaving her with a beautiful, golden brown crust. "Some things will never change."

"Well, that's just not true!"

Sora had known from the moment she spoke that she might regret her words at some future point in time. But what she hadn't figured was that, for Mimi, that Future was Now. And looking directly at an unsuspecting Koushiro.

"You see..." Careful not to touch the hot parts of the table, Mimi rested her elbow along the wooden surface, using the leverage to prop her chin in one hand. "Mama said the paperwork's already gone through. Starting Monday, we'll be going to the same school together."

"Most of us," Sora amended, sending an apologetic look Hikari's way, even though she had no reason to be sorry.

"We knew that would be the case already, Mimi-san." Koushiro peered at her over the top of his laptop. "I'm not sure what point you're trying to make." He paused in his typing long enough to reach for his teacup, taking a sip of the steaming drink.

"Well, this also means there's a chance you and I are going to end up as classmates. Which means I'll be counting on your to take care of me...Koushiro- _sen-pa-i_ ~" She over- each syllable of the honorific in a deliberately singsong manner. Complete with a playful wink at the end.

Koushiro's eyes widened, face turning beet-red as he instinctively gasped, only to choke on the tea he was still trying to swallow. Hot liquid immediately trickled down the wrong pipe, leaving him coughing and sputtering as he struggled to regain both oxygen and what was now left of his dignity.

"Koushiro-kun!" Sora cried out.

But it was too late. He coughed so hard, he fell right out of his seat, crash-landing on the floor with an unceremonious thud.

Just in time for Jou to walk in.

"Hey, everybody. Sorry I'm..." his voice trailed off as he caught sight of a red-faced Koushiro still sprawled out on the ground. "...late?"

"Did she kill him?" Yamato calmly leaned back in his seat, trying to get a better view beneath the table.

"Only on purpose." Mimi grinned, looking the exact opposite of remorseful.

With a faint smile of his own, Jou shook his head as he came around the table—incidentally, a path which involved having to awkwardly step over his fallen comrade—to take up the vacant spot between Hikari and Iori. Even before he settled in, Iori took it upon himself to grab the remaining clean cup and fill it with tea, presenting it to his senior out of respect.

Nodding in thanks to the young boy, Jou accepted the cup with both hands and gave himself a moment to blow some of the steam from its surface. Just long enough for Mimi to reach over and clink her cup with his.

"Cheers, Jou-senpai." she saluted him before holding it up in gesture to the rest of the group. "Cheers, everyone. It's good to finally all be together again!"

Those who were currently sitting held up their cups.

"Well, almost." Mimi then added as an afterthought. She took a healthy sip of tea before continuing. "As soon as Miyako-chan and Ken-kun get here, then the party can really begin."

The change in the air was instantaneous.

Sora shifted uneasy in her seat. Hikari and Takeru were exchanging glances with their brothers. Jou looked like he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to do so. Iori looked...actually, she couldn't even see what he looked like right then, because his bangs were hiding his eyes.

But it wasn't until Koushiro finally hoisted himself back into his seat, prior embarrassment overshadowed by a far more solemn expression, that Mimi knew something was wrong.

Her eyes closed. Just for a moment. When they opened again, she calmly placed the teacup back on the table.

The celebration was over.

"Tell me everything."


	5. FIVE

Hello, again, to my fellow _Hugo Award_ -winning authors!

...okay, yes, so technically the award was given to AO3. But let's be honest, there are several of us who cross-post, aren't there? I know I've been doing so since October of last year. So, yeah, go us!

And now that that's out of my system, we return you to your irregularly scheduled update:

I honestly thought this chapter was going to be a tough one for me to write, to the point where I accidentally put it off a week longer than necessary because I was dreading it. But then, inspiration hit. And by that, I mean I re-watched _Hurricane Touchdown_ and was reminded of how truly ridiculous this series can be when it's not so heavily focused on drama, world building, and character development. That movie is such an entertaining hot mess. Travel times make no sense, an American boy inexplicably keeps speaking Japanese to his mother and digimon, even when the other Chosen aren't around, and they truly went balls to the wall with Hikari's deus ex psychic powers. Also random mega evolutions JUST BECAUSE but only for like five seconds so we can have a couple of digimentals appear. Of course. And I loved every second of it.

Come to think of it...this probably explains why TRI's Movie 2 is still my favorite.

So, yeah...needless to say, I had a little extra fun with this chapter.

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

Daigo Nishijima sat back in his passenger-side seat, tilting his head slightly upward to get a better angle on the van's air conditioning. Behind dark sunglasses, he closed his eyes and willed his internal body temperature to lower. It didn't listen. Too many hours spend under a hot sun wearing too many layers. He reached up with one hand, loosening the tie around his neck.

As if on cue, his phone rang.

"It's like she knows," he murmured humorously to himself, though loud enough for the driver to ear. Flipping the mobile open, he straightened his posture habitually as he pressed the receiver to his ear. "Nishijima here."

To his right, the young man assigned as his driver seemed content to sit idly. They had been parked in their current location for over an hour. More than enough downtime to have picked up a small paperback which he currently seemed engrossed in. The only sounds came from an occasional turning of the page. He neither laughed nor once vocalized a single reaction, and his unwavering stoic expression betrayed very little.

"That's right. Just a few hours ago. We've already spoken to the conductor and most witnesses." Daigo tucked the mobile between his ear and shoulder, wedging it in place to free up both hands. There was a small tablet in the bag by his feet, and he turned it on to reveal a series of graphic documents. "I'm sending you...no, it was too public." Apparently, this was the wrong thing to say, and the subsequent response caused him to flinch. "Look, despite what you seem to think, we don't actually have the authority to hold them until—"

This time, the response was loud enough for even the driver to hear.

" _I didn't ask your level of authority. I asked you to do your damn job!"_

For the first time in more in that last hour, the driver lowered his book just enough to glance warily to his left.

Daigo didn't seem nervous. Nor did he seem aggravated or even exasperated. In fact, the man looked to be holding back an amused chuckle.

"You'll be happy to hear I did just that. The report should be in front of you now." Without batting an eyelash, he returned to the tablet, swiping through a few of the pages before coming to a dual-comparison chart, using his two fingers to pinch the image and enlarge it. "Page six, in particular, is worth noting. The energy waves are nearly a perfect match once taken into account the varying degrees of energy output. That can't be a coincidence."

" _No, one is a coincidence."_ The voice on the other end seemed to agree with him, however dully. " _Two is an unlikelihood."_

"And if it happens a third time?"

He tried to keep his tone casual. To most any other superior, it probably would have worked. But that voice belonged to someone who apparently knew him too well. Enough to be silenced for several seconds before daring to ask:

" _Do I want to know where you are right now?_ "

Busted. "Probably not."

Much to the driver's surprise, there was no immediate yelling or even a reprimand. The voice simply sighed, though through the receiver, it came out as a low moan.

" _Fine. Report back tonight."_

"As you wish, Princess." Daigo looked incredibly pleased with himself.

" _I told you not to call me—_ "

But any further protests were silenced as he slapped the mobile shut, abruptly ending the call. The sound of metal against metal seemed to echo throughout the cabin, and it wasn't until Daigo finally let out the chuckle he'd been holding in that the driver realized he'd been holding his breath since the moment the 'p' word had been uttered.

After all, he'd been with the organization long enough to know the rumors.

o

o

Candles were lit by restaurant servers as the last remnants of the day's sunlight faded.

Crowds thinned. The lull between a late lunch rush and prime nighttime dining left only a few tables scattered throughout the room still occupied.

The last of the batter had long since been used up. All five teapots were empty.

"And you're sure they're really _missing_ -missing?" Mimi questioned, lightly swirling the last of her cup's contents around. A nervous habit she couldn't remember where and when she'd picked up. It helped her maintain an otherwise cool facade. "Maybe they're just out on a date."

"See, that's what I said!" Daisuke perked up, suddenly feeling vindicated in his earlier suggestion.

Iori was quick to frown, shaking his head. "It's been three days. No date lasts that long."

"Actually—" Mimi began.

She was cut off by Hikari's gentle soprano: "They're not dating."

The entirety of the group turned to look at her, and she could actually, physically sense the confusion radiating from each and every one of them. Iori and Daisuke, in particular, though her favorite reaction was the look of sudden contemplation on Takeru's face.

"Wait...they're not?" Daisuke questioned. He sounded doubtful.

"No. They're not." She shook her head, but then seemed to be holding back a smile. One that indicated she knew something the others didn't. "Well, not yet."

Now Takeru just looked intrigued.

At the head of the table, Koushiro's laptop chose that moment to cut in. It beeped in notification, signaling for the auburn-haired boy to finish executing the last of his diagnostic inputs; Mimi, in particular, couldn't help note (with no small degree of personal amusement) that he was still avoiding eye contact. He did, however, look up once to address the group as a whole, shaking his head.

"I've tried every backdoor I could think of. Any gate that hasn't already been destroyed is still closed and locked tight." He extended a hand towards Daisuke, passing back the blue and white digivice. "Not even the D3s can unlock them."

The news was not unexpected, but disappointing all the same.

Jou spared a glance downward, at the youngest of the group. He could tell Iori was taking things much harder than the others. He could also tell the boy was doing his best to suppress most of those feelings. Old habits were difficult to break, regardless of age...or, perhaps, because of them. Discreetly, he placed a hand on Iori's shoulder, and when Iori looked to him, he offered (what he hoped was) a nod of reassurance.

"But they didn't go through the gates," Daisuke chimed in, arms folded over his chest. He, too, bore a mask meant to hide how increasingly unsettled he was by all this. Jokes aside, when he'd first heard, he really had thought the fact that they'd gone missing _together_ meant something. Now? For all they knew, this might not have anything to do with the Digital World at all. And if that option was out, he felt even more useless than he already did. "That's what you guys said, right? The sky basically burst open, and that's how Parrotmon got through. So what's to say that's what happened? Which means all we gotta do is figure out where they were at the time, and see if we can split the air back open again and go after them."

Yamato sat back in his seat. Out of context, very little of what Daisuke said made that much sense. And yet… "Could that actually work?"

"Highly unlikely." Koushiro shook his head. "Gates are controlled doorways designed to be accessed and unlocked by anyone with a digivice. But these portals...they're more like giant explosions against an otherwise impenetrable wall. It takes a huge amount of power to blast through. Like some sort of exponential burst of raw energy, most likely uncontrolled and unpredictable."

A chilling gust of air conditioning from above blew against the back of Takeru's neck. It was the most logical explanation for why he suddenly shuddered. Though, even as the sensation subsided, there was still an unease in his chest. Something he couldn't shake.

"What does Gennai say?" Taichi asked.

"Nothing." More keyboard clacks. Double-checking, just to be certain. "I've been messaging him every day. He hasn't replied to a single one."

"Typical." Yamato scoffed.

The hairs on Takeru's neck stood up. He was being watched.

On a whim, he glanced out of the corner of his eye.

Hikari was staring directly at him. While everyone else seemed more focused on the exchange between the older Chosen boys, her gaze was so intent that it actually unsettled him. That look on her face. He'd seen it before. So eerily calm, only someone who truly knew the young girl would be able to detect the hints of panic rising within.

A flicker of candlelight reflected off her eyes then, and with that slightest shift, Takeru realized his error: she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at something behind him. Something that was troubling her.

He turned his head, following her gaze all the way to the large mirror hanging on the back wall. And the reflection of two men sitting in a corner near the front, sharing a pot of tea but nothing else. Both wore dark suits and even darker sunglasses.

"You see them too." Koushiro spoke again, this time directed at the two of them.

Hikari's trance was broken, blinking twice as she was pulled back into the present moment. Her eyes really did meet with Takeru's for a split second before they turned to Koushiro, nodding with such shadowed expressions that it immediately put the rest of the group on alert.

"What?" Mimi alternated her gaze between the three. "What's going on?"

It was Koushiro who answered: "We're being followed."

"WHAT?!"

"Shh!" Half the group shushed her in unison.

"Are you sure?" Yamato discreetly glanced around the room, trying to see what they saw. "Who?"

"By the door." Taichi had picked up his cup even though it was empty, using it to conceal his lips movement as he spoke. "Two of them. Is that who you're talking about?"

Koushiro nodded. "They were watching us at the airport. I saw them not long after we met up with Mimi-san."

"And they've been watching us for the last half hour at least," Hikari added in that soft, even tone that few of them ever second-guessed.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Mimi asked again.

"I wasn't sure." Sitting back, Koushiro closed his eyes in thought. A hand rose to his chin. Brows furrowed. "It was strange, yes, but there could have been any number of explanations at the time. Maybe they were a couple of businessmen from out of region. Or a branch of private security waiting to meet someone. Except businessmen don't typically have one-on-one meetings in a restaurant like this, which tends to cater more to our demographic. And security guards typically guard more than each other. Not to mention, the way they're currently seated. From that angle, they'd have a clear view of our table while still remaining far back enough that we wouldn't be able to hear anything they're saying." It was for that reason alone he was confident enough to continue speaking, ending the explanation with a convincing nod. "No, it's the only logical explanation."

"You call being followed logical? Daisuke hissed, trying (and failing) to keep his own voice down.

"I don't like where this is going," Jou muttered.

"It's because of what happened with the digimon, isn't it." Iori stated.

Opening his eyes, Koushiro sat up and reached for the laptop again. It only took a few clicks of his mouse before he glanced up and over to where the men were still sitting, calculating the angle before he spun the laptop around. Taking care that they wouldn't be able to see what was on the screen, but the rest of the table would.

It was a newspaper article. Front page, with a sensational headline and appropriately amateurish photograph of two distorted blurs hovering above a rooftop-cluttered skyline. The very first line made a reference to the Vamdemon invasion six years prior, and subsequent appearance of a "mysterious illusion" that hovered in the sky for several hours before vanishing into the night.

"The world hasn't forgotten," Koushiro told them grimly. "I'll bet you they're from the government, keeping an eye on us in case we're hiding Digimon again."

Mimi groaned. "Please don't tell me you've turned into a conspiracy nut while I was away."

"Do you have an alternate explanation?"

She opened her mouth. Then closed it.

"What should we do, Taichi?" Sora turned to her childhood friend in question.

The rest of the table followed suit. One by one, Taichi found himself meeting the gaze of each of his friends and fellow Chosen, falling right back into his old position as Leader. Even Daisuke was looking to him. Even Yamato.

His shoulders tensed with a renewed weight of responsibility bearing down on them. He straightened in his seat, and his already impressive aura grew that much stronger. Except his eyes looked far too worn for someone his age. Battle-weary and tired. Nervous and uncertain. They gradually unfocused as his mind tried to process the situation as best as it could in so short a time.

Hikari recognized the look on her brother's face all too well. It was the same one he wore whenever his team was low on points and morale in the last quarter of a heated soccer game.

"We don't have our partners with us now." He chose his words carefully. Emphasizing what everyone already knew, but for good reason. "Without them...so far as anyone else knows, we're no different than any other group of kids."

"Oniichan." Hikari called to him softly, eyes brimming with concern. "What are you saying?"

The Chosen Leader took a single, deep breath before meeting his sister's gaze. It was easier to look at her. She would be the most understanding. "What I'm saying is that we don't have any real reason to start anything. Give them time. Play it cool. Act like nothing's wrong. They're realize it's a waste, and give up."

Yamato did an actual double-take. "Are you serious?!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He stared over at his long-time rival with an even gaze, though Yamato noted the way he briefly flicked back towards Hikari. "We do just what we tried to do when we were kids. Lay low and stay under the radar."

 _So no one gets hurt. Again._

To a degree, Yamato really did understand. He and Taichi had far more in common than either liked to admit, especially when it came to family. His love for and desire to protect his little brother was rivaled only by Taichi's same feelings towards his little sister. Heck, Yamato wanted to protect her too. It wasn't a stretch to claim that he often saw her as a sister as well. They all did. (Well, most of them.) She was the second youngest of the original eight, and the youngest of all the girls. And she was recently injured.

Still… "That has to be the dumbest excuse for a plan you've ever had. Wait around just in case they decide to leave us alone? On the chance they don't already know exactly who we are? Since when were you okay with being a sitting duck?"

"Aniki..." Takeru gently chastised.

Taichi's grip around the cup had tightened so much, his knuckles were white. "Then what do you suggest? Wildly swinging in hopes of scaring them off?"

"Oniichan..." Hikari echoed her best friend's sentiment and tone.

"Of course not. I say we make a break for it, here and now."

"That's your idea of a better plan? Run away?" Taichi scoffed. "To where? And how do you know they won't just follow after us?"

A pair of unexpectedly strong hands slammed down on the table, startling them both.

Everyone turned to stare at Mimi, who had shot up from her seat. Her head was bowed just enough to hide her eyes from view. Completely still, save for the subtle movement of her shoulders with every controlled breath.

When she finally lifted her head, however, she smiled a little too brightly for any of their liking: "You two just leave that part to me."

Nervous glances were exchanged around the table as she lightly hummed to herself, grabbed the purse hanging off the back of her seat, and started for the front door.

On a whim, Sora got up and followed after her. "Mimi-chan..."

"Does anyone else have a bad feeling about this?" Iori wondered.

Jou was already moving to collect his things. "We paid already, didn't we?"

A bond-chilling scream erupted from the opposite end of the room. They all recognized it instantly.

"Mimi-kun!" Jou was the first to call out to her, spinning on his heels.

"Help! Help, someone!" The young girl was standing just a few meters from the exit, Sora close at her heels. She pointed a shaky, accusing finger at the sunglasses-wearing pair, who in turn were staring back with twin looks of shock. "Stalkers! Both of you! I recognize you from before! You followed me here like a couple of...of...PERVERTS!"

Her voice projected to every corner of the room so its occupants could hear the (melodramatic) "fear" in her tone. Almost immediately, whispers and low murmurs erupted throughout the crowd. There wasn't a single pair of eyes that wasn't blatantly staring.

Utilizing the moment to her advantage, Mimi grabbed Sora's hand and bolted, calling back over her shoulder:

"RUN!"

In the proceeding chaos that followed, the rest of the group did just that.

But not all in the same direction.

o

o

Four blocks.

That was how far Taichi's feet carried him before he thought to slow down. From top speed; the sidewalks were only moderately crowded, making it all too easy for someone of his skill level to weave in an out. He continued on for another half block, not stopping until he rounded a corner onto one of the off-roads. There, he waited.

A second set of footsteps were close behind. Daisuke appeared.

Just a few seconds behind them both was Iori, breathing steady even after keeping up with their sprint.

Daisuke stared at him in surprise. "Just how much Kendo have you been doing lately?"

"Enough."

Thirty seconds would pass before Koushiro managed to catch up. His face matched the color of his hair, and he struggled to maintain the weight of his electronics-filled backpack as he doubled over. Hands pressing into his knees with every heaving gasp.

"Why does...everyone have to run...so fast..."

Taichi risked a peek back down the way they came. Five seconds passed. Ten.

No one else was coming.

He leaned against the building wall, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. His hand clenched into a tight ball at his side, and without warning, he slammed it into the bricked surface. Hard. A shooting pain ran up his arm. He could feel the sting of broken skin. He ignored both for the time being, instead shoving his now heavily scraped hand into his pocket.

"I'm going to kill her," he muttered darkly as he pulled out his mobile. His hand shook as he flipped it open and accessed the group chat feature. "What was she thinking, pulling a stunt like that? Now—"

"Taichi-senpai!" Daisuke exclaimed, and Taichi looked up from his phone to see the younger boy peering out into the main street. His eyes were wide. "Look!"

Three more individuals, all wearing identical shades and suits to the men in the restaurant, were walking down the street. One of them had a hand pressed to his ear, speaking at a volume too soft to hear. One was shaking his head as he listened in. The third was murmuring something to the second, and though most of her words were incoherent, a few stood out: "took off" … "find them" … and, more ominously, "report."

Following Taichi's nonverbal cue, the four boys proceeded to couch low, pressing their backs as far into the wall as physics would allow. Silent and still. Hoping the shadows would be enough to conceal their presence from the oncoming threat.

Iori hadn't even realized he'd started holding his breath until they walked right by, the light of one of the street lamps reflecting off their sunglasses. There and gone in a flash.

"Koushiro-senpai was right after all," he whispered. "Someone really is after us."

"Believe me, you have no idea how much I wanted to be wrong," the boy in question whispered back.

Daisuke looked to Taichi again. "What now?"

Taichi's eyes were narrowed as he watched the three figures disappear into the oncoming night. It was easy enough to tell where they were heading. Which meant that things had changed. Laying low was no longer their best option.

He turned back with renewed determination.

"There's only one way to find out exactly what's going on. We follow them."

o

o

Sora wriggled uncomfortably against the cushion-less metal chair. Twice, she resisted the urge to fidget even more before conceding a hand to check the pale yellow sun hat resting atop her head. Then the white-rimmed sunglasses hiding the upper half of her face.

"I feel ridiculous."

"I think it looks cute." Mimi grinned at her over the rim of her rose-tinted aviators. The brim of her dark blue cloche hat shielded her eyes from the bright overhead street lights. "I mean, personally, I would've gone with the gold rims for you, but white works almost as well with your current tan."

"That's not what I mean." Suppressing a groan, she lifted her head and risked taking the sunglasses off, folding them neatly before placing them down on the small table between them. "First of all, even if they were somehow still able to follow us after all that, what makes you think these disguises would fool anybody? And second...sunset was more than a half hour ago."

"The harbor lights are still pretty bright! If I didn't know it was already nighttime, I could easily still think it was day."

Sora's expression went flat. Closing her eyes, she took the time for a very long, very deep breath before turning to the remaining member of their party: "A little help, senpai?"

Jou finally put down the newspaper he'd been reading (and conveniently concealing his face with), revealing a dark grey flat cap atop his navy blue hair. He took the time to adjust his (regular prescription) glasses before speaking.

"There is a slight chance you may have overreacted, Mimi-kun."

" _Slight?"_ Sora echoed.

"We weren't in any immediate danger." He continued on, voice oddly calm. Even soothing. A direct contrast to his usual panicky nature, something which didn't go unnoticed by either girl. "The odds they would come after us in a public place like that were pretty low. We could've had more time to come up with a plan as a group."

Nodding her agreement at everything he'd just said, Sora turned to Mimi and braced herself for the inevitable oncoming argument—

"Yeah. I know."

-which was why she was so surprised when the younger girl instead sat back in her seat and heaved an inaudible sigh. She reached up, removing her own sunglasses with a sheepish expression. She didn't put them down like Sora, instead lightly toying with one of the earpieces, twirling the thin metal between her thumb and middle finger.

"I was kinda rash, wasn't I?" Because she was so focused on the sunglasses, she missed Sora's jaw drop at the open admission. "It's just...I was watching Taichi-san and Yamato-san start to argue and Hikari-chan and Takeru-kun getting nervous. I guess I was worried that if things kept going the way they were, they'd end up fighting again. Like before. So I...I don't know...reacted."

Sora and Jou's eyebrows practically disappeared beneath their respective hats as they turned to one another, stunned into silence. Whatever they had been expecting Mimi to say, or whatever argument they might have guessed she'd use in self-dense...that was not it.

"So you made a scene...to keep them from making one?" Sora questioned.

Mimi shrugged. "Don't misunderstand. I still believe we're really being followed. Why else would that one really creepy, black van have passed us, like, four times in the last ten minutes?"

The span of a single heartbeat passed.

"WHAT?!"

The two of them turned to the adjacent street...where, sure enough, a now-familiar van was just turning right a block up from where they'd been sitting.

Sora went pale.

Jou slammed the newspaper down on the table.

In near perfect sync, they shot up from their seats, nearly knocking over the chairs in the process. Several pairs of eyes turned towards them, but they had already taken off in a sprint. Running in the direction opposite from where the van had turned.

"...see, I knew I made the right choice." Mimi allowed herself a second's preening before replacing her sunglasses and taking off after them: "Hey, wait for me!"

o

o

Hikari stood at the edge of the pier, arms resting against the wooden railing as she stared out into the horizon. Lights shining from the nearby boardwalk reflected off the water's surface, twinkling brighter than the stars just beginning to pepper the night sky. In the distance, she saw the lights of another plane take off from the airport tarmac, rising higher and higher until they disappeared behind a cloud.

It was quiet. Peaceful. Only the distant sound of nightlight could be heard over the gentle waves crashing against the wooden posts below.

She closed her eyes and breathed deep. Salty air filled her lungs.

Footsteps approached. Stopping to her immediate right. She didn't have to look to know it was Takeru. His presence was as known to her as anyone's. Warm and bright and reassuring, with that faintest glimmer of something she could never full put into words, but had long just attributed to his Crest.

"You look like you could fall asleep."

She grinned. It was impossible not to. "Almost." A breeze blew off the water, cutting into some of the humidity. It felt utterly refreshing. "It reminds me of my first time in the Digital World. When we all camped out on top of Whamon."

By then, Takeru was mirroring her expression. He also leaned over the side of the railing, looking up as nostalgia washed over him. "Sitting around the campfire. Jou-senpai trying to fish. Tailmon succeeding." He chuckled softly at the memory, and heard her doing the same. "All we need is the sounds of Niisan's harmonica, and—oh, that reminds me."

The abrupt change in topic was enough to get Hikari to open her eyes and look over at him.

"I heard you were coming to the concert next Saturday after all."

He kept his voice even and his tone casual, as if only making conversation between them. But out of the corner of his eye, Takeru watched her reaction carefully. The way she seemed confused at first. Genuinely so, as if the thought had yet to cross her mind. When realization finally did hit her, her eyes widened just long enough to let out a sheepish giggle.

"Oh! That's right. I hadn't gotten around to telling you yet." Takeru found himself relaxing internally the more she spoke, convinced it wasn't meant to be any major surprise or secret. It really was just one more topic of conversation for her. "There was a last-minute schedule change. They moved up Oniichan's soccer game to earlier that afternoon. Although...it's kind of funny…."

She trailed off for a moment, and as Takeru continued to watch her, she turned her gaze upward. Contemplative.

"He only found out Monday during school, and didn't tell me about it until after dinner. But Yamato-san had already stopped by to drop off a ticket for me. It's like he knew what I was going to decide even before I knew the choice was there."

Takeru was left both surprised and not. Of course, Taichi would no doubt have caught up with Yamato sometime during the school day. They were in the same homeroom, after all. He was pretty sure they ate lunch together. So the idea that he would have known before Hikari wasn't so far-fetched. But that his dear brother had deliberately made it sound like Hikari had been the one to ask for her ticket when they spoke on Tuesday? No doubt, knowing it would be one of the few things to earn an honest reaction out of him?

Maybe he was a bad influence on Yamato after all.

"How about I come with you, then?"

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Only when it was too late did he come to the conclusion he wouldn't have tried, anyway. Not if it meant missing out Hikari's subsequent expression. A subtle blend of disbelief, surprise, excitement, and no small amount of happiness. Maybe it was just the reflection of the boardwalk lights, but he could swear her eyes were shining.

"Really?"

It was absurdly pathetic how a single word could spark joy in him _._ How he could hear the pure _hopefulness_ in those two syllables, and it was enough. It wasn't as if they were short on opportunities to hang out. During lunch, with friends. After school, walking home together—well, except this week. Given they were both busy aiding their respective homerooms with last-minute Cultural Festival preparations.

"Sure. If it's possible to do both, then why not?" He turned to fully face her, tilting his head down just enough to meet her gaze directly. When he smiled again, it wasn't the usual charming grin he bore for most other members of the opposite gender. It was something much...gentler. "This way, Taichi-san gets an extra person to cheer him on...and I still get to make the person most precious to me happy."

He would forever cherish the way Hikari's expression changed before his eyes in the next few seconds. Staring back with that unreadable look of hers as his words properly sunk in. Lips parted. Eyes focused. Not a single hint of color to her cheeks, although...over the ambiance of the evening, he thought he heard her gasp softly.

That was his cue.

Smiling brighter, he threw a glance back over his shoulder: "...right, Aniki?"

Several meters from where they stood, Yamato was lounging on one of the pier's wooden benches. His eyes were closed, but at the sound of his brother's voice calling him, he peeked one eye open. And promptly grimaced.

"Don't you drag me into this. The only reason I'm even here right now is because I have no idea."

Takeru let out a good-natured chuckle, sending Hikari one last grin before moving to join his brother. She seemed to catch on quickly enough. Whatever tension that may or may not have existed melted away as she followed close behind, any continued talks of concerts and soccer games left to another time.

"Have you heard back from the others yet?" Takeru asked.

Yamato nodded, holding up his phone for the two of them to see.

"Taichi's with Koushiro, Daisuke, and Iori. Mimi-chan and Sora are with Jou-senpai. The former are still tailing another group of suits they came across, and the latter are apparently running away from some 'creepy' van...according to Mimi-chan."

That was...a lot of information for Takeru to take in. "It sounds like we were the only ones who weren't followed."

"Maybe."

Yamato rose to his feet, then stared down at the young pair in concern. He really hadn't planned to be the one to look after them both. In the heat of the moment, he'd simply gone with his instincts. Takeru's blonde hair was easy enough to spot in a crowd. Either Hikari had the same train or thought, or Takeru had chosen to stick close to her as he often did. Yamato had no way of knowing which was the case, though neither would have surprised him.

Hikari let out a sudden, sharp gasp, the sound cutting through the air like a knife. Her body went rigid.

Takeru knew at once something was wrong. "Hikari-chan?"

Her eyes had fogged over. She wasn't looking at or beyond anything this time. Which meant, it was either something she'd heard, or else…

"It's happening again."

Before the brothers had a chance to ask further, she spun on her heels and headed straight back to the edge of the pier. The winds had already begun shifting, and thought it was difficult to tell in the dark, the clouds above had shifted as well. The water began to swirl. And bubble. A light appeared from deep below. Dim, at first, gradually brightening until—

Megadramon broke through the waters of Tokyo bay.

In the distance, closer to the boardwalk, there were screams of horror. Frantic shouts. People began to scatter.

Hikari's breath caught in her throat as she stared up at the magnificent beast. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her skin tingled. She wasn't afraid of it. She was afraid _for_ it; even before the first visible signs appeared, she knew Megadramon was in pain. Whatever had attacked Parrotmon's heart was going after its heart as well.

One of its claws flickered pink.

Her knees felt weak.

The digimon threw his head back and let out a fearsome roar. It echoed into the night. A cry of pain. There was nothing about its movements that didn't scream desperation. Wriggling this way and that. Turning and twisting and doing everything to shake the mysterious distortion. Its massive tail swing wildly, hitting the water at full force.

The result was a massive wave heading straight for the pier...and the three teens still standing on it.

"Hikari-chan!"

Reacting on pure instinct, Takeru pulled the girl close to him, crouching them both as low as possible while using his body to shield her.

"Takeru!" Yamato, in turn, threw his body over them both.

The water hit less than a second later, crashing down with an unforgivable weight.

Yamato held his breath until he thought his lungs would burst, clinging tightly to his brother until longer after he was convinced the danger was over. Exhaling sharply, he collapsed into a slumped seated position, swallowing a lump in his throat as he took the time to catch his breath. His vision was too blurry to make out much of anything, even after he wiped his face with his hand.

"Takeru? Hikari?"

There was a bit of coughing from Takeru, but not much. "I'm okay, Aniki."

Hikari didn't answer.

Takeru felt his heart speed up, utilizing all his willpower not to crush the fragile girl in his hold as his body tensed. He looked down. Her shoulders were moving. She was breathing. Somewhat. Faint gasps emitted from beneath a curtain of wet, brown locks. Her hair clip was lost to the waters.

His fingers moved of their own accord, reaching up to brush back her bangs, tucking them behind her ear with the gentlest of motions. She glanced up at him, and their eyes met.

"You okay?" He asked her softly.

She swallowed once, still slightly gasping, but nodded.

Only once he was certain of that did Yamato push himself to a stand, eyes narrowed with a renewed sense of resolve. And annoyance. He glared a bit unsteadily at the dragon digimon, seeing only the creature who had attacked them and nothing more. Reflexively, he reached for the digivice in his back pocket.

"Gabum..." Realizing his error almost immediately, he gritted his teeth. " _Shit."_

The wind picked up again. A sudden, forceful blast that blew right by him. Heading towards the water. Carrying an oddly greenish tint.

" _Blazing Fire!"_

Amid the backdrop of a moonless night, green flames burst forth, striking Megadramon square in the chest. The digimon recoiled back, letting out a screech as its tail slid along the water's surface. It had little time to recover before a second attack saw smaller, rapid-fire blasts driving it further and further from the shore.

"...what the?" Yamato's fists unclenched in bewilderment.

"Right behind you, Aniki!" A second gust of wind. High above their heads. This time, lavender. " _Treasure Axe!_ "

A glimmer of something sharp reflected off the dim light, spinning faster and faster until it was no more than a blur. Megadramon was once again struck over and over until it could no longer sustain flight, crashing straight into the water, though by that point, it was far enough out that the resultant waves didn't reach the top of the pier.

Takeru felt Hikari tense, pulling back just enough so they could both rise to a stand. From there, she pulled away from him and took a step forward. The sudden lack of warmth was far more palpable than he thought it would be.

"Takeru-kun..." she whispered. "Look."

He looked.

Two shadowed figures, each only partially illuminated by the boardwalk. One green and husky in stature, wielding twin rotary canons on each arm. The other, long and lean and a pale greyish-purple color. Both vaguely resembling rabbits in their own, distinct way.

A memory flashed in his mind's eye. A pair of digimon partners. Twins.

Realization hit him. "Those digimon..."

"They're Wallace-san's," she finished for him.

"I'm flattered, Hikari-chan. You remembered me after all." A voice from their shared past called out just then. Fluent, but carrying a distinctly American accent.

Along with Yamato, Takeru and Hikari both turned to see a boy their age standing at the start of the pier. His blonde hair only a few shades darker than Takeru's, bright blue eyes shone with a surprising ease to them, considering his twin digimon partners were currently engaged in battle.

"It's good to see you again." He approached with a friendly smile that brightened a little more when he focused on the young girl in particular: "You're even cuter than the last time I saw you."


	6. SIX

I know you're all been waiting awhile for the next update (in truth, I might have rushed the final draft a bit and may go back and reedit later), so I have only one subject to note before we get to it:

Regarding **Evolutions** : Antylamon is a bit of a grind in the gears, because he's technically a Perfect Level, but at the same time, an Evolution from Lopmon, a Child level. This is, of course, primarily based on the evolutions shown to us in Tamers, since the movie had several underlying evolutionary challenges, with the whole being corrupted etc etc. There is technically an Adult level in between the two, but I don't believe Turuiemon appeared in the anime pre-Fusion (which I have yet to watch beyond those amazing crossover episodes), and I have very little experience with the games. So we're going with Tamers rules on this one.

(Not that Wallace would seem to know either, considering he still calls them Chocomon and Gumimon regardless of level/form.)

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

The tea shop was closed. A sign on the street level door indicated the owners were away on vacation. Unusual for that time of year, given the high level of tourism, but also extremely convenient for Taichi to slip, unseen, past the singularly knotted rope blocking the stairs to the upper deck. Hidden by the shadows of the night, he took them two at a time before sliding into a low crouch behind the wooden railing and held his breath.

Seconds later, the trio of suits came into view; he watched them through a crack in the weathered planks as they paused just shy of the street lamp's illuminating glow.

Murmured whispers were exchanged.

Taichi felt his heart pounding in his chest.

They were hovering. They had to be. He knew he had never been known for subtlety or stealth. His hair was too distinct a feature. Too easy to spot. There was no way they hadn't seen him. And in yet another one of his genius moves, he'd climbed up onto what was essentially a dead end. The sliding doors behind him were locked. There was only one way in and out. It wouldn't be long before his cover was blown, and he would end up—

Music rang into the air.

" _Oh, my Julia! Oboeteru kai..."_

But it cut out almost as soon as it began, and Taichi heard a sharp, feminine voice speak up.

"Reiko." Silence. The mobile was pressed firmly to her ear at too far a distance for him to hear anything. "Negative. No signs since the okonomiyaki shop."

Taichi felt his knees go weak from a mixture of relief and partial disbelief. After all that...they really hadn't been seen? Not once? Unless…

He steeled himself and risked another peek. The two men seemed fixated solely on the woman on the phone. Somehow, they appeared completely oblivious to his presence one story above their heads...and to Koushiro's, sitting by the front window of that 24-hour internet cafe across the street...and Iori's, whose head was just barely peeking out from the adjacent underground train stairwell...and...okay, in Daisuke's defense, Taichi might not have even known he was up that tree if he hadn't witnessed the younger boy climbing it.

Still.

What were these people, Bakemon in disguise?

"Acknowledged." The mobile clicked shut. Reiko took the time to tuck it back in her jacket pocket before filling in her companions. "There's been another attack. Four targets engaged with an anomaly down by the harbor."

A chill ran down Taichi's spine before he paused to furrow his brows. _Four_ targets?That didn't make sense. Yamato was with Hikari and Takeru. Sora was with Mimi and Jou. Their respective messages confirmed as much. Even if the two groups had since rejoined, the math still didn't add up.

"Just call them what they are, Reiko-san," One of the men heaved an unexpectedly uncharacteristic sigh. He then proceeded to dispelso many prior notions of professionalism as he shifted his weight, slouched, and scratched at the back of his neck. "A bunch of kids with no idea how in over their heads they really are." He sounded tired. And annoyed.

"I wouldn't rule them out, Hiashi-kun," the other spoke in a far lower and more cautious tone. "You read the same reports I did, and if even half of what's in them is true—"

" _Unconfirmed_ reports. The first of which cites an anomaly appearing when half of them were barely old enough to run their first errand."

Taichi's eyes widened. _They're talking about Hikarigaoka!_

"Or are you really expecting me to believe a normal 3-year-old would have casually gone for a joyride on some giant dinosaur-like creature, or watched that same dinosaur fight an even more giant bird without once bursting into frightened tears?"

"Maybe she's not a normal 3-year-old?"

Anger began to rise from deep inside Taichi's chest. That was his baby sister they were insulting! He felt his arms tremble and had to bite down on his lip _and_ dig his nails into his palm to keep from jumping up and screaming at them for implying anything remotely negative about a girl they probably had never even met.

(Even if...so maybe there were times when...occasionally, he would wonder…)

But brotherly honor aside, what disturbed him even more was the fact that these people apparently couldn't find a goggle-wearing teen in a tree and yet they somehow _knew_ about him. About them all. Their involvement with the digimon. The attacks by Vamdemon would have been one thing, given how public they'd been, but how could they possibly have known about something only eight young children had ever claimed to witness?

"Look," The first man spoke again. "Kids can sometimes be weird, but not that weird. I'm telling you right now, if my sister's little girl came upon anything bigger than a shiba inu, you'd hear her screaming all the way in Kyoto."

"I thought your sister had a tosa?"

"If you two are done arguing over mere speculation, maybe we should head back to the rendezvous point." The woman finally cut in, audibly unamused. She deliberately cut between them on her way down the sidewalk, not bothering to wait for either to catch up before adding: "We got what we came for."

 _...they did?_

Taichi was more confused than ever. Confused and pissed and...uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly, but there had been something about the two men's argument that left him a little on edge. Enough to haunt his thoughts long after the trio disappeared down the main street, when he finally stood. To occupy his mind as he absently made his way back down the stairs, so oblivious to his surroundings that he didn't notice the figure coming up behind him until something brushed against his back.

Biting back a yelp, he reflexively jumped and spun on his heels...only to find himself staring back at Sora's wide-eyed gaze. His hand had somehow found its way to her mouth. Hers had done the same to his. Together, the childhood friends were left blinking at one another in a moment of awkward silence until, in sync, they lowered their hands.

"How did you know where we were?" was his first question.

She shook her head, looking as taken aback as he felt. "We didn't. We've been running from that van for, like, the last twenty minutes or so until, all of a sudden, it hit the brakes one block back that way—" she indicated down the side street she had just come from with a thumb over one shoulder "—and did a complete U-turn. It was weird."

"Mimi-kun spotted you while we were trying to figure out what to do next." Jou came up behind Sora. Mimi was right beside him, looking vindicated. "We would've gone up to meet you, but we heard those two guys talking. I don't suppose you heard what they were saying?"

Fresh anger returned to his features at the memory, and he nodded once. "It's worse than we thought. They're not just following us. They _know_. Everything."

"You mean about the digimon." Jou tried to clarify.

Koushiro chimed in then, shaking his head as he rejoined the group. "Not just the digimon. They know about the Hikarigaoka attack. I'll bet they know about Vamdemon and even Diablomon."

"Wait, " Taichi turned to him in question. "You heard them?"

"Of course I did. I was listening in the whole time."

"How…?" He began, before thinking better on it and shaking his head. "Never mind. I don't think I want to know."

"What was that about Diablomon?" Daisuke wanted to know as he and Iori finally caught up.

Mimi raised an eyebrow at him. "Why are there leaves in your hair?"

"More importantly," Iori cut in, his low tenor drawing the attention of everyone. His eyes were inquisitive as he stared down the main street. There was a faint glow in the distance coming from the boardwalk, and an even fainter sound of... "Does anyone hear screaming?"

o

o

Megadramon let out another roar as his tail whipped around, slamming hard into the twin digimon and sending them straight into the waters below. It would be several seconds before their heads resurfaced, coughing and sputtering and Gargomon moaning something about forgetting his swim trunks in America.

Hikari's knuckles were white as she clenched the fist over her heart that much tighter.

Takeru risked a glance Wallace's way, noticing the boy growing more and more uneasy the longer the fight went on. And, to his surprise, he couldn't decide if he felt more nervous or relieved at the thought.

"How much fighting have they done since last time?" He kept his tone gentle, knowing it was a delicate question. One he wouldn't have asked at all if it hadn't been important.

"Enough. At least...I thought..." The American blonde shook his head, eyes glazing over as he seemed to be recalling something in his mind's eye. "They've sparred together ever since Chocomon re-hatched. Gumimon insisted. He said...after meeting you guys, he knew it was important that he get stronger. So he could protect me..." A flash of sadness Takeru recognized all too well appeared, only to replaced by a smile Takeru knew even better. "But they're fighting together. With those odds, I'll just have to trust that they'll be okay."

Sure enough, Takeru found himself habitually mirroring the expression. "Right."

"Unfortunately, it's not always that simple."

Yamato stepped forward, drawing both their attentions. His eyes remained fixated on the battle for a moment longer before turning to face Wallace directly. He gave the newcomer a once-over, peripherally taking note of his little brother's body language all the while. Takeru was the second best judge of character of anybody he knew. The best was standing less than two meters away, back to them as she kept an eye on the digimion. Both had recognized Wallace immediately. Wallace had certainly recognized Hikari. And Yamato remembered the name from past stories. An American Chosen. A friend. Or at least someone who was very _friendly_.

But there would be time for that later. Right then…

"What do you mean?" Wallace had his near undivided attention, eyes wide and curious.

"What level are they?"

"...level?"

"One's an Adult." Takeru offered, recognizing Wallace's unfamiliarity with the terms. "I'm not sure about the other, but they're either the same or one level higher."

Yamato nodded, unsurprised. "And Megadramon's a naturally evolved Perfect." He turned back to Wallace with a small frown. "You could be right. They have every chance of winning. But even if they were both newly-evolved Perfects, they could still be at a bigger disadvantage than you think. Especially the way Monodramon's fighting. You need to take that into account."

"Perfect...Adult..." Wallace's confusion was palpable as he alternated between the brothers. "I know digimon get stronger each time they evolve, but...how do you know all this?"

Another large splash interrupted before either of them had a chance to explain; Gargomon and Antylamon had since recovered, and the former sat atop his brother's shoulders, rapidly firing blasts as Antylamon hopped literal circles around Megadramon. The dragon digimon struggled to follow the movements, head swirling around and around as one rabbit focused on the offense and the other on defense. Twice, Megadramon attempted to swipe at them. Twice, he missed.

And several times more, Gargomon's wild aim ended up sending splashes of water up onto the pier.

"Hey!" Yamato exclaimed as cold water struck his face. "Could you try...I don't know... _aiming_ that thing?"

"Sorry!"

The next shot hit Megadramon square in the chest, stunning him so badly he was unable to block the next four in a row.

Wallace's smile reappeared, more genuine than before. "There! I knew they could do it!"

The pair were now moving in near perfect sync, each attack coordinated with the other like a dance routine. The second Megadramon hit the surface of the water, one was bouncing off his head while the other delivered a series of blasts to the chest. A combined effort that fully submerged the Perfect level digimon until only his tail hovered above the surface.

Even Takeru had to admit they made a pretty great team, especially if they were as inexperienced as Wallace claimed.

"They're actually winning." He felt his shoulders start to relax, coming up to stand beside Hikari. "At this rate, they'll—"

"It's not right." she whispered.

Takeru heard her all the same. "Huh? What's…?"

He trailed off, brows furrowing as looked up in time to see Megadramon's tail swinging blindly. Gargomon was bouncing back and forth between his brother's shoulders and the tail, using the last jump to propel himself high up into the air. When Megadramon resurfaced, he went straight for Antylamon, only to find himself blocked by a wall of shots aimed directly into the water. This gave Antylamon enough time to circle back around...but not before accidentally running directly into the tail, flying backwards.

"Aniki!" Gargomon called out.

"I'm okay! Keep firing!"

It was far from a completely one-sided battle, but Takeru couldn't see anything more wrong than usual. Yet when he turned back to Hikari, he was shocked to find her eyes glistening. She had always seemed so much more adapted to battle than he, so for her to be so visibly upset could only mean one thing: she was seeing something he couldn't.

Gargomon hit Megadramon's shoulder just as a flash of pink flickered between them. The split-second contact was enough to send them both flying back in a burst of light and painful cries.

Hikari's eyes glazed over.

"...' _kari..."_

Another burst of light. This time, from behind.

Yamato, Wallace, and Takeru all spun around, and the latter was hit by a sudden wary nostalgia at the sight.

He had seen that light before. Three years before. Standing on the edge of a cliff by the ocean, he'd watched as it manifested in the air. A portal. A tear in the wall between worlds, bursting open through raw power. The image of his best friend had stared back at him then, but this time…

Little more than a shadowy speck at first. Growing larger and larger until it took shape. Tall ears. A thin tail, shimmering just below the tip. Fierce, blue eyes. White fur. Feline.

" _Hikari!"_

Tailmon leaped high into the air, soaring over their heads as she somersaulted her way into a graceful landing atop the dock railing. She straightened, eyes locking with Hikari's for only an instant before turning towards the ensuing battle.

" _Tailmon!_ "

But she wasn't the only one; less than a second later, Patmon came flying out of the portal at top speed, straight into a shocked Takeru's arms. The sheer force sent the boy flying onto his back with an emotional digimon wriggling in his arms

"Tailmon..." Her Chosen partner called to her softly. "...help him."

Beneath her clenched fist, another glow appeared. Pink at first, then white. The glow of evolution. It burst forth, bathing the Adult digimon in a surge of energy and power. Her form grew. Limbs stretching as paws became hands and feet. Fur replaced by soft skin and cold armor. Long, golden locks sprung from her head as a helmet appeared. Boots, too.

Angewomon rose up high into the night sky, surrounded by an ethereal light indicative of her Holy status.

Instincts kicked in, and Takeru sat up. His eyes fell to Patamon's, and it took less than a second for the two partners to agree:

"Go."

"Right!"

The light from Takeru's chest was softer than Hikari's, yellow instead of pink, but the end result was virtually the same. Patamon's form twisted and morphed into that of Angewomon's male counterpart, his six brilliant wings carrying him to her with lightning speed. The pair shared a warm smile between them; how long had it been since they'd fought together in these forms? Powerful and confident, with the serene knowledge of what needed to be done. And how.

"They really do look like angels," Wallace commented dreamily as he stared up at them in awe.

"Kinda fitting in a way," Yamato murmured, more to himself than Wallace. His eyes fell to where Hikari had knelt down by Takeru's side, momentarily taking herself away from the battle long enough to inquire about his well-being. For his part, Takeru seemed to be taking it all in stride, allowing her to help him to his feet before turning to watch their digimon fly off Megadramon. Their hands remained clasped for several seconds after.

Wallace turned to him, intending to ask what he meant by that, before noticing an oddly soft expression on the older boy's face. So he followed his gaze.

And saw the same thing Yamato saw.

Gargomon and Antylamon had just retreated back when they caught sight of the approaching angel digimon. The latter dropped his jaw, while the former's smile brightened at the familiar faces.

"Long time no see, guys!"

Their responses were simultaneous head nods before coming to a steady hover several meters above, positioned equidistantly from Monodramon while facing one another. It took less than a second to assess the situation, at which time they smiled.

"You two helped protect our partners." Angemon spoke first, his light tenor echoing into the night. "We are indebted to you for that."

"Now it's our turn," Angewomon added warmly.

She held up her hands, first positioning them over her head before bringing them in front of her. Arms outstretched and palms lightly touching. At the same time, Angemon rose a single fist. Energy swelled and power enveloped it in a ball of fiery light just as Angewomon's hands started to glow.

They attacked in perfect unison:

" _Heaven's Knuckle!_ "

" _Saint Air!_ "

But they weren't aiming at Megadramon; much to the twin digimon below's shock, the attacks instead were aimed directly at one another, meeting in the middle with a resounding crash of light. The result was a shower of glimmering particles that rained down upon friend and foe alike.

Antylamon appeared unaffected, lifting a bladed hand to catch some of the first particles only to watch them dissipate harmlessly into his fur.

Gargomon's nose twitched as one landed on it, and he let out a sneeze.

Megadramon, however, let out a hiss as the bulk of particles fell upon him. He writhed and thrashed in a futile attempt to avoid them, letting out one last weakened cry, before...slowly...with every passing second...as the light rain continued to fall...he began to settle. Roars and hisses gave way to low grows. Then snorts. Then quiet exhales. Lead lowing. Eyes closing. Sporadic flickers of pink appeared, but this time, they no longer seemed to cause pain.

The waters below started to glow just as Megadramon gave into the Holy cleansing, and his body slowly sunk beneath the waves.

Soon after, it all went dark. And still.

"Wow." Gargomon's eyes were like saucers.

"What did you do to him?" Antylamon wanted to know.

The angel digimon said nothing, sharing one last knowing grin between them before indicating their return to shore. The brothers followed suit.

Hikari let out a slow exhale as she stepped away from Takeru, a hand reaching for the railing as she felt her knees suddenly grow weak. Takeru reflexively reached for her, but pulled away at the last moment when he saw she could still stand under her own power.

Wallace alternated his gaze between the pair and Yamato. His mouth opened and closed twice before he could find the right words: "I have so many questions right now."

"You get used to that."

Yamato closed his eyes and smiled at Gabumon's response, shaking his head for a moment before realizing: "... _Gabumon_!?" He recoiled back, jaw dropping as he took in the sight of his digimon partner standing so casually at his feet. "When did you get here?"

The Child digimon dipped his head down in an attempt to conceal his blush. "We...uh...followed Patamon, who was following Tailmon."

"We?"

A glance over his shoulder was all it took. The portal had long since faded, leaving a small collection of Digimon in its wake. Agumon was smiling and waving. Piyomon hovered just above Palmon, who had a claw raised to her mouth as she looked around. Gomamon was trying not to be too obvious as he eyed the water just off the edge of the pier. Tentomon's expression was as unreadable as ever. Chibimon was laughing at something Poromon had said, while Upamon and Minomon looked incredibly embarrassed at having been noticed.

"Hikari!"

Taichi's voice rang out, distant but rapidly approaching. Yamato had to squint in the dark at the mob of brown hair heading for them, followed by about six more shadows he could only assume was the others.

Agumon had no such issue, and immediately starting running towards his partner with outstretched claws: "Taichi!"

The boy in question came to a screeching halt in shock. "Agumon?!"

"Sora!"

"Piyomon!"

"Oh my gosh, Palmon, is that really you?!"

"I think so!"

"Did you get taller?"

"Maybe a little."

"Daisuke! Daisuke!"

"GAH!"

"...maybe you shouldn't've jumped on him head first, Chibimon..."

Digital chaos reigned over the next several minutes as Child and Digimon were reunited, flooding the area with shouts of surprise, glee, excitement, and so much more. Palmon jumped into Mimi's arms, and was spun around over and over again until she grew dizzy. Piyomon had hopped herself straight into Sora's welcoming lap, and the two clung to one another in a teary-eyed display. Chibimon was still poking at a semi-conscious Daisuke, while Gomamon and Upomon, each standing beside their respective partners, were shaking their heads. Koushiro and Tentomon were already quietly exchanging information while Agumon was nuzzling Taichi's leg.

At some point, Hikari and Takeru made their way over to the group as well, holding Tailmon and Patamon respectively. Wallace lingered back, Terriormon perched contently on his head with Lopmon shyly hiding behind one ankle.

"...Ken-kun?" It was Wormmon's forlorn question that finally silenced the group, and they all turned to find him and Poromon looking around sadly. "I can't see him."

"I can't find Miyako either. Why isn't she here?"

It was deja vu as the majority of the Chosen all shared a look. Only this time, Mimi understood well enough to bite her lower lip in uncertainty.

"I knew we'd find you, Taichi. I just knew it." Oblivious to the shift in tension, Agumon looked to his partner with the closest thing to a smile his features could portray.

"Liar." Despite everything, Piyomon held back a faint giggle from Sora's arms. "You spent so long screaming that the giant hole in the air was going to eat us all, it nearly closed on you."

Agumon's response was to swiftly fold his claws over his chest, turning his head away. "I was just making sure the rest of you got in safely first. T-that's all!"

Laughter rant out among the group, dispelling some of the tension in the air.

A low grown emitted from Daisuke and, much to Chibimon's delight, he finally moved to sit up. The Child digimon was content to lingering in his lap as the young teen situated himself. Wincing as he rubbed at his chest, but unable to stay mad for long with that certain set of big eyes peering up at him. His face broke out into a grin, and he lifted Chibimon up before looking out onto the rest of the group.

And nearly did a double-take at the sight of two Takerus standing near Hikari.

He blinked.

Then rubbed his eyes.

No, that second boy wasn't Takeru. It was… "Wallace-san?"

"Ah! Daisuke! Hello again." To the American boy's credit, he did sound genuinely pleased to see him, although the sentiment might have gotten lost when he immediately proceeded to add: "Not the reunion I would have guessed, but I don't mind. And I'm sure it will be even better once I get to see Miyako again too."

Daisuke's expression immediate flattened. "You're as forward as ever, I see."

Mimi let out an ear-piercing scream, and everyone turned in time to see her hiding behind a very bewildered Jou. The oldest of the Chosen looked torn between blushing at the sudden indirect attention, and struggling to remain upright the way she was clinging to the back of his shirt.

"Not again! They found us!" Mimi shrieked.

 _That_ sobered him up quickly, and he and the rest of the group turned in time to see a black van slowly pulling up to the edge of the pier. Sora went pale. Taichi instinctively placed himself at the front of the group. In response, Daisuke came up directly behind him, eyes narrowed and donning a glaring Chibimon on one shoulder.

"Should we run?" He asked the Original Leader.

Taichi spared a single glance his way, before shaking his head.

The engine cut. The headlights remained on. One of the doors opened.

Mimi let out a small _eek. "_ We really are about to get kidnapped by the government—don't you _dare_ look smug, Koushiro-kun."

Behind her, Koushiro recoiled at being called out. Unwarrantingly, in his opinion.

A sole figure stepped out, slamming the van door behind him. Features mostly obscured by the headlights, but otherwise distinctly male. He was not alone. Behind, about a dozen or so more figures had gathered on either side. They lingered back. The sole figure did not, taking his first few steps towards the Chosen.

Taichi tensed, teeth gritting as his body tensed. Sensing his partner's unease, Agumon too shifted into an offensive stance.

"Taichi, should we attack?"

"They're not digimon." _Probably_. "We can't attack humans." He murmured to his partner, eyes never once leaving the approaching figure. He looked for any signs of a weapon or indication of any impending threat. Besides the fact that the van was blocking their only feasible escape route. "...but they don't know that. Keep standing there, and try to look really menacing."

"Right!" Agumon held up both claws, bearing his full seat of teeth.

"Whoa! Whoa! Easy there!" The figure raised both hands, sounding like he was holding back a laugh. He stepped in front of the headlights, illuminating part of a casual grin. "I think we can all agree there's been enough fighting for one day. We come in peace."

"Seriously?" Yamato asked flatly, before getting a better look at the man standing before them. The pressed suit was new, but that casual manner of speech...that uncombed bed of hair...that grin… "Nishijima-sensei?"

The name rang too familiar to Taichi. He straightened, squinting until the image of his (alleged) high school teacher came into view.

"Stand down, Yagami." Risking lowering his hands, Nishijima proceeded to tuck one into his pants pocket as the other hung limp at his side. "I assure you, I can explain everything."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"Right. You're more of a visual learner, aren't you?" Chuckling to himself at what he no doubt thought to be a joke, he started to take his hand back out again. "Maybe this'll help."

A flicker of light shone off something metallic in his hands, and Taichi tensed. Behind him, he heard several of the others gasp.

Nishijima extended his arm forward, giving him a full view of the small object in his palm. Far too small to be any conventional weapon. It was dull and silver. Almost teal in tint, with a screen that reflected light as if it had been recently polished. Yet the wear on the buttons betrayed their true age, just as the scratches to its surface betrayed a lifetime of experience.

Taichi's breath caught in his throat, hands twitching as he reached for his digivice. Holding it in his own palm, he went back and forth between it and the one his teacher wielded. Around him, the others were doing the same. Sora, Yamato, Mimi, Jou, Koushiro...and the kid Daisuke had called Wallace. Takeru and Hikari and Iori and Daisuke's models were different, but the urge to reach for their respective D3s had been similarly irresistible. And if he took into account the fact that the only remaining digivices unaccounted for were also D3s...then that meant…

"Who's digivice is that?"

"Mine." Grinning, Nishijima tossed the device up into the air once before catching it, this time holding it up between his fingers as if to evolve some invisible digimon. "Got it shortly before my first and only trip to the Digital World."

A strong gust of wind blew off the ocean waves, waving their way through each of the Chosen. It blew at Hikari's wet bangs softly, caused Takeru to shiver in his damp clothing, prickled at Yamato's exposed skin, brushed the twins' ears against Wallace's cheek and leg, teased the hem of Mimi's outfit, tugged at Jou's glasses, ruffled Koushiro's collar, messed with the zipper on Iori's jacket, bounced off Sora's new haircut,swirled around Daisuke's goggles, and sailed passed Taichi to balloon Nishijima's unbuttoned suit behind him.

"Then...that makes you..."

His grin only widened.

"One of the Original Five Chosen. I'd add Children, but...well...apparently, fourteen years can fly by faster than you think."


	7. SEVEN

This chapter took far longer to complete than it should have. Partially because I'd spent far longer than necessary researching 2005 supercomputers and Japanese van model sizes, going back and forth several times on feasible passenger capacities and seating arrangements before settling on the scene below. And that was before I got into _Hurricane Touchdown_ canon. But also, I'd wanted to take time over my Winter Break to get some writing done and unfortunately got sick and was unable to do much of anything, really. February break is coming up in a couple weeks, however, so fingers crossed my luck is a bit better then.

And yes, I am aware of both the upcoming movie and reboot Adventure series. I'm less enthusiastic about them continuing to age up the Chosen CHILDREN even more in the former… but the hype is REAL for the latter after seeing those beautiful character designs and reading the teaser synopsis and I am so here for a new AU story that I'm already coming up with fun theories that probably won't pan out but hey, that's what fanfic is for, right?

(Because there's a very strong chance you'll be getting some new one-shots from me out of both.)

o

o

* * *

 **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE**

* * *

o

It wasn't the most awkward car ride Jou had ever been a part of, but it was close.

Granted, 90% of that was because Mimi spent the entire time on his lap.

 _Why_ she was sitting there, he couldn't s—actually, no, that wasn't entirely true. He knew the _logical_ why: because math. Nishijima-sensei's van was one of the larger models currently out on the market, but it still only seated twelve. He and his driver occupied the front two, leaving ten. If they included the American boy—Wally or Willis or something like that—then that put the (human) Chosen's numbers at eleven. Meaning they were one seat shy.

Or they _would_ have been, except Mimi—being Mimi—had decided that wasn't an issue because she could just share with someone. She used to do it all the time back in New York with her friends. All things considered, it wasn't a terrible idea. Haneda was less than twenty minutes from their destination, so it wouldn't be for long. There were even two perfectly acceptable choices. Hikari and Sora were both on the petite side. It would be a little tight with either one of them, but if their digimon remained on the cabin floor, it wouldn't be unmanageable.

Two by two, seats began to fill up. Takeru and Yamato climbed into the back. In front of them, Daisuke and the American boy. Apparently, they had enough history together to engage in friendly discussion while Lopmon and Terriormon played janken for Wallace's lap. Taichi had climbed into the van next, and unsurprisingly, Hikari followed after her brother. Well, that settled things.

Then Jou made the mistake of pausing to blink, and before he realized what was happening, all but one of the remaining seats had been claimed and he was still standing outside with Mimi. She looked completely unfazed when she grabbed his hand, practically throwing him into the last seat right before unceremoniously plopping herself down on top of him, upper torso twisted in such a way that she could continue the story she'd been sharing with Sora from across the aisle.

His body went stiff as the door slammed shut beside them.

Sora, taking visible pity on his unexpected predicament, was trying to hold back her laughter.

Unfortunately, Gomamon and Palmon were far less subtle in their whispers.

"Wow. I've never seen that look on his face before!"

"I have. Remember before we knew it was Devimon's castle, and everyone went to go take a bath…."

It would be the longest twenty minutes of his life.

ooo

"Do they need to hold still?" Wallace questioned.

Koushiro shook his head. "Not at all. The program can detect any digimon within its line of sight, no matter how fast they're moving."

"Good." Wallace grinned, glancing down at the pair. Terriormon had won the game, then almost immediately conceded to his brother's pout, leaving Wallace pulling double lap duty. "Because I'm not sure they know how."

"Waa! So mean, Wallace!" Terriormon pouted.

"Mean!" Lopmon echoed, soliciting a round of soft laughter from the group.

The gentle hum of the van engine filled an otherwise oddly amicable silence in the seconds that followed; for all the uncertainty looming over them, conversations remained relatively light. Questions between digimon and partners had given way to Daisuke's retelling of the events in America three summers prior, offering as much self-important hyperbole as Iori was willing to let him get away with. Occasionally, Hikari and Takeru would share knowing glances with one another, but otherwise seemed content to remain silent, leaving the youngest of the group to bear the burden of reigning in Daisuke's ego. Even Wallace appeared far too amused at the embellished tale to comment much.

Koushiroabruptly cut injust as Daisuke was getting to the part where he, as leader, gave a rousing speech that motivated the group as a whole.

("Was I there for that?" Iori mouthed silently to himself.)

"Here they are." He sounded far more relieved than intended at the news. "Terriormon and Lopmon. Beast and Data types, respectively, even though they're twin digimon. They even originally hatched from the same digiegg. Fascinating."

The pair in question turned to one another with mirroring raised brows, then simultaneously redirected their brows towards Wallace. The American Chosen looked similarly confused, head tilting as he pondered something.

"Terriormon? Lopmon? I'm not sure where you got those names, but they're Gumimon and Chocomon."

"In their Baby forms, yes. But they're in their Child forms right now." Koushiro turned the laptop screen for Wallace to see, using two keys to alternate back and forth between the data windows. "See?"

Wallace leaned forward, eyes narrowing. He couldn't read half the words on the screen, but his katakana was still good enough to him to quietly echo the pronunciation of each name, syllable by syllable. When he was finished, he looked back up: "You're saying their names change every time they evolve or devolve? Doesn't that get confusing?"

Daisuke shrugged. "You get used to it."

"I'm surprised you don't know any of this," Taichi folded his arms across his chest, leaning further into his seat. He'd remained quiet for the first half of the trip, listening and observing the interactions between the younger generation and Wallace. Daisuke was clearly vouching for him, which normally would have been enough, but there were a few lingering doubts that continued to nag at him. "How long have you been a Chosen Child?"

Hikari, recognizing her brother's tone for what it was, sighed: "Oniichan..."

Wallce took the question in stride, however, glancing once between Hikari and Taichi as their familiar relationship clicked. He'd remembered Hikari speaking of her _oniichan_ during their adventure in America. It was nice to finally put a face to a name, even if that face was clearly suspicious of him.

"If you mean how long I've had Gumi—I mean Terriormon and Lopmon..." The names felt as foreign to his tongue as they sounded to his ears, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Koushiro nod approvingly. "...then since I was young. I think their egg hatched when I was about three or four."

Sora glanced upward as she did a bit of quick calculating in her head, before turning to Taichi with wide eyes: "Hikarigaoka."

Mimi, too, looked taken aback, if for a slightly different reason: "That was way before I met Palmon. Even Michael-kun didn't find Betamon until around the same time."

"Michael?" Wallace echoed curiously. Choice of suffix aside, the name didn't sound Japanese to him.

"A friend of mine from New York. He's another American Chosen, like you. Sort of." As she spoke, she leaned forward to look down the seat aisle. She felt Jou briefly tense even more beneath her and, figuring he was concerned about her falling, made a point of using the head rest as extra support. "Michael Barton. Do you know him?"

He thought about it for a moment. _Barton...Barton…._ "I know an actor by that name."

"Oh, yeah. Michel J. Barton. That's his dad." She beamed in amusement. "He's pretty cool. A little full of himself, which is probably where Michael-kun gets it from. But they're both really nice. He used to come with me to the Digital World sometimes after school."

"He sounds like a very lucky guy." Wallace commented in earnest. Then, his smile warmed as he momentarily switched to English: " _His father's a_ _big, Hollywood_ _movie star, and he gets to go on date_ _s_ _like that with a pretty girl_ _like you_ _._ _I'm a bit envious right now._ "

Daisuke smacked his forehead before Mimi had the chance to preen. His English skills were all but nonexistent, but he knew that tone. "If you're going to keep that up, can you at least stick to one girl? Or language?"

"I have no idea what you mean," The American blonde stated innocently.

Terriormon threw his tiny arms and not-so tiny ears up, missing Wallace's face by mere centimeters. "Wallace is just looking for a date for the party! His mama told him he could have one if he wants."

Lopmon, initially with a claw to his mouth, decided to imitate his older brother's gesture for emphasis.

Daisuke's expression went even flatter. "Seriously?"

For the first time, Wallace let out a slightly nervous chuckle, pausing to collect himself by pushing down the digimon ears obstructing his vision. He could feel the dozen or so eyes, digimon and human alike, peering at him from several directions. They seemed oddly more interested in that than his origin story. How coincidental, given his traitorous partner was an unabashed gossip.

"It's not like that," he tried. When that clearly didn't work, he opted for a different approach. "I don't know if you use the same phrase here, but in America, we call it a 'plus-one'." Only Mimi seemed to recognize the term, which told him he was on the right track. He'd meant it when he told her she was pretty, yes, but she hadn't been the one he'd originally had in mind… "Mama's friend is getting married next weekend. Mama is here as one of the bridesmaids, and brought me so I could translate for her, since she doesn't speak as much Japanese as I do."

"She didn't teach you?" Sora asked, surprised.

Wallace shook his head. "No. I learned from...someone else."

"An old girlfriend, right?" Daisuke chimed in. "That's what you told us back then."

Hikari sat up a little straighter in her seat as Wallace nodded. His expression seemed at ease by the memory, but there was something in his eyes...just for a moment, a tiny flicker. It corresponded in near perfect sync with a dull ache radiating from his heart.

The movement had drawn Takeru's attention, and when he glanced over at his best friend, he saw her looking at Wallace contemplatively.

"So you're here until the wedding?" Mimi asked.

"Until a little after. This is out first time to Japan, so Mama booked us for the entire month." He alternated between Daisuke, Hikari, Takeru, and Iori, finding four completely different expressions staring back. "I was hoping for the chance to see you all again while I was here, but I wasn't expecting it to be so soon. Or in the middle of another fight."

"Isn't America in school too right now?" Iori wondered aloud.

(Inwardly, Jou and Koushiro admitted to themselves they had been thinking the exact same thing. Fitting that the one who inherited their crest traits in his digieggs would be the one to ask.)

"I'm home-schooled." Wallace explained. "I still go to the local schools for state exams and a few other things, but I usually do all my lessons at home."

Daisuke's eyes were as wide as his goggles. "You can _do_ that?!"

Wallace chuckled again, and this time, it was a bit more genuine. "In America, you can. I think as long as Mama follows certain rules and I take the tests I'm supposed to, it's fine. Plus, it made taking care of these two much easier." He tilted his head down towards his partners, who in turn grinned back up at him. "You can't really bring a digimon to school."

Chibimon, Poyomon, and Upamon exchanged glances before bursting into a fit of low snickering.

Tailmon slapped a paw to her forehead, while Patamon tried to look as innocent as he wasn't.

"I see." All eyes turned to find Hikari's soften. She spoke with a gentle understanding as she scratched at one particular spot behind Tailmon's ear. "That explains why you and your Mama are so close. I remember you speaking of her so fondly, even back then. You must get to spend so much time together that way. Even now, you're traveling with her for something special."

Taichi's shoulders instinctively relaxed the longer his sister spoke, and for the first time since the start of their trip, the corners of his lips twitched upward at the sentiment. Family was important to the both of them. Hikari, in particular. Not only did they share an incredibly strong bond as siblings, but she was almost as close to their parents. How many times did he come home from school to find her and their dad watching television together before dinner? Bonding over a shared fondness of some of the most ridiculous variety shows. And their mother...second only to Taichi in protectiveness, especially when it came to Hikari's health.

"It is special," Wallace agreed, setting his eyes on the young brunette. He seemed to mull something over in his mind for a second before coming to a decision: "But you know what would make it even more special, Hikari? If you were to come with me. I think that would be fun." His smile was so charming, his tone so sincere, that it was impossible to interpret the invitation as anything but.

Hikari blinked twice, mouth slightly agape: "Me?"

"Of course!"

Silence.

To some, the temperature in the van seemed to drop by a few degrees.

Sora looked at Mimi. Mimi looked at Sora.

Then, as if reading the other's mind, they both glanced towards the back of the van. Takeru was staring at Hikari, looking uncharacteristically uneasy.

The van gave a sudden, sharp jerk as the driver made a right turn, then began to slow. Ahead, a gate appeared. Darkness loomed in the distance as the moon remained hidden by a few clouds. Only a few dim lights outlined the facility, casting it into an ominous shadow.

"I think we're here," Koushiro stated grimly.

ooo

Daigo reached into his pocket for identification as the van pulled into the security gate. His eyes were steeled, face expressionless as he reached across the driver's seat to show the guard.

"You couldn't drive a little slower, could you?" He muttered while waiting for the guard to let them in. "I really wanted to find out how that was going to play out."

ooo

ooo

Himekawa Maki was having a bad day.

One that was growing exponentially worse as the van pulled into the main garage entrance. Fluorescent lighting from above clashed with the bright bulbs of the vehicle headlights. She winced at their harshness, and promptly ignored the half a dozen agents flanking her on either side when they flinched. It made little difference to her what they thought. Her heart had long ago shut itself away from their fear and disdain.

The engine cut. The lights dimmed. The passenger side door opened, and from it emerge the primary source of her headaches.

"You're fired."

"What, again?" Daigo seemed unfazed by the threat of looming unemployment, taking the time to close his door before crossing the short distance between them. A lazy grin splayed across his features at the sight of her, posture at ease. "Does this mean I don't have to file the paperwork for this evening? Because that really would be the best news I've heard all day."

Maki's left eye twitched. Anger radiated from her in cold, iridescent black waves.

Daigo didn't bat a single eyelash.

Behind him, the sound of the van's back door sliding open cut into a (one-sided) tense silence. Muttering voices were heard. Most of them soft. A few low-pitched, but most of them ringing significantly higher. Younger. Flashes of non-uniformed wardrobes and relative heights were perceptible at even a single glance, and before she allowed herself to fully register their significance, Maki shut her eyes. A hand went up to cover them as she took a slow, deliberate breath.

"Please tell me you haven't just kidnapped a bunch of children."

"I'm wounded. Do you really think so little of me?" Then, not willing to let her answer that truthfully, he quickly added, "They came willingly. All of them."

"Define 'willingly'," she stated dully.

She heard him shift his weight again. There was a notable pause until he spoke again, and when he did, his tone had changed. "Look, Maki-chan..." (She knew he was serious when he refrained from using that accursed nickname, even if he remained allergic to addressing her properly as his superior.) "You and I know keeping them in the dark for long won't work. Half of them are even more stubborn than you are. At least two are smarter than us both. They're going to find out eventually, and if we're going to have any chance of convincing them, they'll need to hear it from us."

"Of all the idiotic things you've—" but when she lifted her head again, her eyes caught a glimpse of something just past his shoulder. Something that caused her to freeze in place.

Recognizing that look, Daigo followed her gaze.

Most of the group had emerged from the van by then, with the Ishida/Takaishi brothers being the last ones. Their hair and clothes were still visibly damp, no doubt from the earlier water-side battle. The younger of the girls, Hikari, was in a similar state. It hadn't been much an issue in the warm van, but the sudden blast of air conditioning was causing them all to shiver.

Their partners seemed to be doing their best of offer what small amounts of warmth their tiny bodies could provide, but it did little to ease Taichi's concerns, in particular. The leader of the Chosen was currently speaking softly to his little sister as she rubbed at her arms, occasionally shaking her head and forcing a smile for his sake. Most everyone else's attention was similarly focused on Hikari, Sora in particular alternating between the Yagami siblings with a hesitant worry that could only come from experience.

In the end, it was Wallace who stepped in with a solution, making a show of offering the jacket tied around his waist. Hikari's reluctance to accept was quickly overshadowed by an apparent flattery as she graciously accepted.

"You see it too." She barely registered Daigo's voice murmuring in her ear. "Images on the screen are one thing, but—"

"It doesn't matter." Maki spun on her heels sharply as the agents behind parted way. "You may as well bring them inside. And get those three some towels before we're responsible for sending them to the hospital with fevers."

Daigo nodded absently, taking the time to salute her retreating form before reaching to rub the back of his neck.

"Damn. Looks like I'm gonna have to do that paperwork after all."

ooo

ooo

An observation gallery. Or some sort of boxed conference room. Whatever it was called, one thing was blatantly obvious to the Chosen: Nishijima-sensei hadn't brought them there by mistake. Nor had he accidentally left them unattended for the last several minutes, promising to return with someone they were 'going to want to speak to.'

Regardless of his reasoning, it left them with a full, unhindered view of the room below. And the dozen scientists, white lab coats and all, moving from station to station with methodological precision as they recorded and cross-checked lines of code scrolling across more than three times as many monitors. Colored lights dotted the consoles, each twinkling with a delicate fury.

Koushiro's eyes were wide as saucers, face pressed into the cool glass as he took in the sight of it all.

" _Prodigious."_

From her seat in one of the large office chairs, Mimi smirked. "It's official." She tilted her head up, covering the mouth piece of her cell as she lightly swiveled back and forth in her seat. "We've never getting him to leave now."

A few chairs down, Wallace bit back a laugh as he returned his attention to his own parental phone call. Daisuke had been kind enough to lend him his cell, and while he'd had every intention of leaving a message, his mother had surprised him by actually being in their hotel 'd spend the next several minutes trying to assuage her usual worries about how late he would be out and who these friends of his were and how did he even make friends when they'd been in Japan less than a week and whether or not Gumimon was behaving himself.

"I always behave myself!" Terriormon cried in protest, loud enough for the receiver to pick up.

Most of the rest of the group had scattered throughout the room. A few took seats at the center table, while others opted to remain standing. Takeru and Hikari shared a two-person bench along the far wall while they warmed themselves up with a small space heater provided by one of the agents. Yamato lingered close by, toweling off his hair with one of the fluffy, white towels Gabumon handed him.

Until he sneezed.

"Bless you!" Terriormon and Lopmon called out from across the room.

"Oh, I do hope you're not getting sick," Gabumon dipped his head down sadly, even as he continued to peer up at his partner. "Though...I don't believe you ever actually explained how you three got so wet?"

Wordlessly, Yamato pointed back towards the twins.

"We said we were sorry!"

A sudden jiggling of the doorknob startled Sora, who had been leaning against the adjacent wall. Out of habit, she swiftly moved closer to where Taichi and Jou were standing, Piyomon close at her heels. They and the rest of the room straightened as the door opened, revealing Nishijima-sensei standing beside a stoic-looking woman. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the sight of the eleven children and their partners, before stepping forward.

"The current Chosen, I presume." Even her voice betrayed very little. Behind her, she heard Daigo shut the door with a soft _click_. She took that as her cue to continue. "What we're about to discuss can not leave this room. Then again, I trust you lot understand the importance of secrecy."

Daisuke timidly raised a hand. "Umm...are we in trouble?"

"That depends." The woman turned her steely gaze towards him. "What did you do?"

"N-Nothing!" He gulped, shrinking further into his seat. Whoever this woman was, he reminded her a little too much of his mother for his liking.

Laughter rang out as Daigo stepped forward. "Try not to let her intimidate you. I promise she's quite nice when she wants to be." As if to prove his point, he placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. As if to disprove, she sent him a scathing glare for his efforts. "I'd like you all to meet Himekawa Maki, head of the Incorporated Administrative Agency. She's here to answer as many questions as we're legally allowed to divulge. And maybe one or two we're not."

The group collectively bowed in polite greeting before Taichi stepped forward.

"I—"

"I have a question." Koushiro's voice rang out from the back. No longer glued to the window, his eyes were alert and fully aware (if a bit glassy). He indicated to the room below. "How is it you're in possession of a top-of-the-line, BlueGene L System? The last anyone officially heard, it was stated to be housed in America."

Maki's brows rose, and she forgot to be pissed at Daigo long enough to turn to him in amazement.

Daigo shrugged. "I told you he was smart."

"How do you know…?" Taichi began, before once again realizing his error. Instead, he shook his head. "No, never mind. I can guess how you know. But what _is_ it?"

"It's a SuperComputer developed by IMB that was only just released this past March." It was moments like these he wished Miyako was there with him to appreciate the gravity of it all. She and Ken were the only other two Chosen who had ever come close to sharing his love of technology, and between the two of them, only she had retained that same passion through the past few years. "You guys don't understand. That, down there, was ranked the Number one System during the ISC. At last count, each one performs at approximately 136.8 _terriflops_. _"_

"Well, he's right about one thing." Daisuke wrinkled his nose. "I definitely didn't understand any of that."

"I think he's speaking in tongues again," Mimi muttered under her breath.

"Are you getting any of this, Tentomon?" Yamato turned to the bug digimon, who promptly flailed in self-defense.

Quickly regaining her composure, Maki hid any lingering awe behind a deliberate cough before folding her arms across her chest. "You're...admittedly more well-informed that I would have guessed, Izumi-san. I suppose I should be more concerned about that than I am, but right now, we have more pressing matters to address." Her eyes lowered to the smaller occupants of the room. "Such as your digimon."

"Hey! Who're you calling a 'depressing' matter?!" Chibimon squirmed in Daisuke's arms, offended.

"What she means," Daigo stepped forward, sensing the room's growing unease. "Is that their sudden reappearance is a bit...unexpected. The scientists you see down there now? They're working overtime trying to recalculate the hypo-electrical wavelength algorithms."

Looks were exchanged, each more at a loss than the other. Koushiro appeared momentarily bemused, his lips moving in silent echo as his mind tried to fit the pieces together. At one point, he went still. So still that the others were starting to worry, before his head abruptly snapped up in realization:

"The Portals!"

Even Maki was struggling to hold back a smile. She hadn't been much of a fan of children ever since she was one, but she was starting to warm a bit to Izumi. He was certainly a better conversationalist than the majority of her subordinates. "Precisely. It's one thing when a friendly digimon crosses over with their human partner. But I don't have you tell you what can happen when something far more sinister breaks through."

She didn't.

The room fell into an ominous silence as memories resurfaced. Different faces to different minds. For Wallace, it was the image of his beloved, if corrupted, Chocomon's "Wendigomon" form. For Iori and Daisuke, it was impossible not to think of Diaboramon. And the Original...or, now technically _Second_ Generation Chosen...the horrors of Vamdemon's brief stint in their world left scars that lingered to that very day.

"That's where we come in." Daigo indicated towards the in-house systems with a single jerk of the head. "We've recruited some of the best minds in four separate countries—yes, America included—to gather and interpret the unique energy signatures of the Digital World. Cross-referenced with some of the most recent tears...what you, Izumi-san, referred to as portals...and we hope to eventually predict and proactively respond to whatever threat comes through."

Even Daisuke understood that much; one by one, eye lit up with the growing realization of what their predecessor's true intentions were.

"You...really used to be Chosen Children." Taichi straightened, though it was more as if his eyes were seeing through Daigo and Maki. To a past so similar to his own, it made him wonder about the future. If there was any hint of potential familiarity in his calligraphy teacher's easygoing demeanor. Or Maki's stoic determination. "And you're picking up where you left off."

"You say that as if we ever stopped fighting." Daigo grinned at him.

"The difference is, we have a bit more firepower on our side now." Maki added. "We can keep both worlds safe...and..." She hesitated here, voice nearly faltering as a flash of memory threatened to resurface. "...most importantly, we can keep you safe. So that...none of you will ever have to feel the same loss we did."

 _Loss._

Takeru reflexively held onto his partner a little tighter. Willing his breath to remain even so the others would suspect. His heart pounded in his chest, and even as his eyes took in the sight of a forlorn Maki, at the same time, they saw the glowing eyes of a being which had haunted him for half his life.

But then Hikari let out a faint whimper beside him. Inaudible to anyone's ears but his. He glanced to her out of the corner of his eye...and saw her face pale as she held a hand to her chest. Her knuckles were white. As if she were in pain. Except her eyes weren't closed, and she wasn't looking down or at Tailmon or even at him. She was staring at Maki as if she could physically sense the woman's pain.

"Who did you lose?" Daisuke asked, though even he looked hesitant to do so. "Your digimon?"

In a rare moment of uncertainty, Maki turned to Daigo. She knew this was as hard for him as it was for her. It had to be. The idiot was so careless with his feelings on any given day. If she, the so-called ice princess, could still feel those residual aches from something that happened to them more than a decade ago…

Yet, somehow, the eyes that met hers seemed at ease. Even reassuring.

He nodded once.

She got the message, closing her eyes to steel herself—and her heart—once more.

"We lost one of us. Another Chosen Child."


	8. EIGHT

I have been **waiting** for this Chapter. (Yes, I know how that sounds, given my 100-year-old turtle's pace in updating) Is it my favorite? No, if only because there are some scenes down the line that are nothing but pure self-indulgence in fanfic form. But here is where I finally get to show off just how far, above, and beyond canon I'm taking this story.

Some of you may have guessed the plot twist at the end of the chapter, but for those of you who haven't…

Don't say you weren't warned~

oo

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

 _Fourteen Years Ago…_

o

 _Pain shot up Maki's leg. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. To press forward. It was no use; her knees gave way, and she crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap. Blood trickled from the wound. The faint scent of sweet copper reached her senses. Sweat plastered hair to her face and neck. She reached up to brush away the offending strands and get a better look at her injury._

 _It certainly felt worse than it looked. There was bruising all around the cut, which was already caked with dirt. Great. Idly, she wondered if a Digital Infection would be better or worse than a Real One. It wasn't as if they could politely ask their opponent to stop throwing swords at them long enough to grab some antiseptic._

" _Hime-chan!"_

 _To add insult to her literal injury, Daigo was running to her side. She heard him kneel. Felt a hand on her shoulder, which she immediately recoiled from with a low growl._

" _Don't call me Hime-chan."_

 _A pause. Then...he had the audacity to chuckle. "Yup. You're fine."_

" _And you're not funny." She muttered._

 _Before she could shift her weight into a more stable seated position, he slipped an arm around her shoulder. How persistent. This time, however, she didn't feel like fighting off, using his support to rise to her knees. One leg vehemently protested the movement_ _and she found the idea almost as annoying as her current human crutch._

" _How can one Digimon be so strong?"_ _She heard herself mutter darkly. As much to herself as to Daigo. "We're fighting at a literal Perfect Level, and he's treating us like some minor annoyance. It makes no sense."_

" _Sana-kun doesn't think he's a Perfect,"_

 _Her brows furrowed. "That makes even less sense."_

 _Not that it seemed to matter to the Chosen in question; Amari Sana looked every bit the pinnacle of_ _pretentiousness as he stood crouched atop one of the larger remaining boulders. What had once been a proud, naturally-formed monument had been reduced to scattered rubble over the last hour. The air was still heavy with dust. And yet their self-proclaimed leader bore his trademark cocky grin as he stood above it all to cheer on his partner._

 _Hippogryphymon certainly had the aerial advantage. Piemon hovered several dozen meters above the cratered surface, but Hyppogryphymon soared far beyond, coming in for a serious of dive-bombs that served as a necessary decoy for Fukuhara Reo and Triceramon to get a few shots in from the ground._

 _Any other battle, and Maki would have been against the two teaming up. On a good day, Sana and Reo fought like an old married couple. Constantly trying to one-up the other for little more than bragging rights. Still...for once, their "plan" seemed to be working; Piemon looked seconds from getting whiplash as he darted back and forth between above and below, only to have the swords knocked from his hand in a wave of Orochimon's infamous Sake Breath attack. Dazed (and quite possibly drunk), the clown digimon shook his head before just barely deflecting a follow-up bladed tail swing with another materialized weapon._

" _I prefer to save the cele-ba-story...cerebra...sara...oh, forget it..." groaning to himself, Piemon pressed his arms to his sides and shot straight up into the air. Higher and higher until, if only for a moment, he was little more than a shadowy speck among the clouds._

" _Yeah! You better run!" Sana, who had a voice that could put TonosamaGekomon even further into a coma, cheerfully fist-pumped the air in victory._

 _Orochimon came in for a soft landing, lowering his main_ _h_ _ead for_ _Tsuji Itsuki to dismount. Her feet barely made a sound when she touched ground. She turned back to her partner, giving two of the mechanical heads several pats each before tilting her head towards Sana. The smile on her face was far too gentle for the battlefield._

" _Even a little victory is still a victory, ne, Sana-kun?"_

 _Sana visibly preened at hearing his favorite quote recited to him by one of his favorite people, torn between melting and striking and even more valiant pose._

 _Reo snorted in disdain, folding his arms across his chest and choosing to look anywhere else. "Either of you seen—oh, never mind. There they are." Cupping his mouth with both hands, he called out to Daigo and Maki: "Oi, lovebirds! Think you can pick up the pace a bit?"_

" _You're not funny, either," Maki glared as they approached. "Stop smirking, Daigo-kun."_

 _Daigo smirked that much harder._

 _It was almost impressive how easy he made it seem to bear the brunt of her weight. Nishijima Daigo wasn't on_ _the track or_ _volleyball teams like Itsuki and Sana._ _He didn't dance in his spare time like Reo. He didn't study martial arts like Maki. He barely participated in Gym Class. Yet his face showed no signs of a struggle, neither a wince nor single bead of sweat, even though he practically carried her the last few steps to the rest of their fellow Chosen._

 _Reo opened his mouth to say something else. Maki threw a pebble at him to shut him up; he dodged easily, but closed his mouth all the same._

" _Ah! Maki-chan!" Itsuki was the first to notice the state of her leg, because of course she was, and rushed to the other girl's side. Her expressive features-(she was about as bad at poker as she excelled in the 100 meter dash)-were twisted into genuine concern. "You're bleeding!"_

" _I-it's fine. Just a scratch." She managed a reply, turning away from Itsuki's fawning as her face grew hot. Being the center of attention was one thing, but being the center of Itsuki's attention was a recipe for emotional disaster. If the others caught sight of her looking flustered…_

 _Above, an explosion went off. The ground beneath them shook from the sheer force. Daigo (and by association, Maki) and Reo topped over. Sana managed to jump off his perch without to much damage to his person or pride. He took that as he cue to call up to his digimon._

" _Hyppogriff_ _omon!"_

 _The others followed his lead:_

" _Megadramon!"_

" _Orochimon!"_

" _Loaderliomon!"_

" _Triceram—OH SHIT!"_

 _Reo had less than a second to take in the attack heading straight for them before he dove for cover. By the grace of a split second did they manage to dodge the double-bladed swords. A glimmer of light was their only subsequent warning before it began to rain swords._

" _He's attacking the children!" Orochimon hissed, curling his body around Itsuki to shield her. He used his tail to swat at half a dozen blades in rapid succession. "Quick! We have to protect them!"_

 _Each of the remaining digimon moved to their respective partners' sides. Another, much larger projectile was flung towards the earth. It wasn't a sword._

 _Maki felt her heart skip a beat as she saw her partner fall, reverting back to his child form just before hitting the ground. He didn't get up again._

" _Tapirmon!"_

" _You know, it really is quite obvious when you think about it." Poised in his gradual decent, Piemon leaned forward to peer at each of the Chosen. His lips twisted into a deranged grin. The sword in his hand shimmered even in the shadows of dust clouds. Red glistened at its tip. "I can't believe I didn't think of this sooner! The drink must've really gone to my head!"_

 _He threw his head back and laughed, chest bouncing up and down as the sound echoed across the entire region. Booming like the roar of an oncoming thunderstorm._

 _And, just as in a thunderstorm, the lightning followed._

 _Energy surged at his fingertips. Crackling in the dry air. Sparks of yellow and blue and even pink danced from gloved digit to gloved digit, swelling as he summoned more and more power from within. He held up the bloody sword, using the metal as a conduit as he poured that energy into its blade until it started to glow._

 _On the ground below, the Chosen felt their hair stand on end. The remaining conscious Perfect digimon braced themselves for the oncoming attack._

 _At the last second, Piemon's eyes flickered to his right._

 _Only Itsuki saw it._

 _Realization struck her in that instant. Her pupils dilated. The world around her slowed to a crawl as Piemon began to swing his sword down. There was no time to cry out. No time to do anything but_ _react_ _._

 _Slipping out from under her partner's protection, she broke into a full sprint towards Tapirmon. She had always been the fastest of their group. She barely registered the voices of her friends calling out to her. Screaming for her to come back. Because they didn't see it. Maki's partner was laying, helpless, as Piemon cruelly aimed for the one opponent with no way of fighting back. He called out the attack name. Her heart leapt into her throat. She had seconds left, and only one thing I mind: to get to Tapirmon before—_

 _The rest of the Chosen could only watch, frozen in horror, as Itsuki threw herself over Taiprmon just as the wave of electricity struck them both._

 _Everything exploded in a ball of blinding light._

 _Maki never got the chance to cry out. A force threw her to the ground. Dust filled her throat and lungs. Her vision went white. She coughed and sputtered and writhed violent against arms that shouldn't have been so strong. She couldn't see. She couldn't breath._ _She couldn't think._

" _Don't look." There was only a voice in her ear. Weak. Quivering. It was Daigo._

 _She looked anyway._

 _The light faded into nothingness. Tapirmon and Itsuki were gone. No bodies. No trace. Only faint scorch marks and...tiny balls of light. Each as delicate as a cherry blosson petal. Drifting higher and higher into the air, dimming the further away they got, until they were beyond reach and sight._

 _Never to be seen again._

o

o

Silence followed.

Not a word or whisper or audible gasp dared make itself known. Eyes were wide. Mimi's hands covered her nose and mouth. Sora wrapped her arms around herself in attempt to suppress a violent shudder. Koushiro gulped. Daisuke's jaw was on the floor. Yamato's eyes were hard. Iori's head bowed. Jou's lips were pressed into a thin line. And Wallace had gone so still in his seat that the twins were starting to worry.

He had suffered loss before. But not like that. Nothing like that. And, sure, Daisuke had told him some incredulous stories about the Digital World before. He also had a habit of embellishing. Still, even his most outlandish hyperbole paled in comparison. An enemy so cruel as to attack an unconscious digimon. A friend...a loved one...sacrificing herself for a truly hopeless cause. An outcome so devastating, it made the encounters with Chocomon's corrupted for seem...for lack of a better phrase...like child's play.

It was Taichi who reacted first. Still processing what he'd just heard, his mind and gaze reflexively turned towards the back of the room. Sora's did the same. As did Yamato's. Whether by example or coincidence, each of the older Chosen followed suit. Koushiro. Jou. Mimi. All with the exact same thought in mind.

 _Hikari and Takeru._

Her face had gone pale. His hands trembled. Eyes unfocused, staring at some distant spot on the ground in front of them. Their expressions were identical. Dark. Haunted. Both holding onto their respective digimon partners a little tighter as a shared memory replaced in their minds.

Maki recognized the signs: "Piemon?"

The pair nodded once in sync.

She wanted to be surprised. To have had that last little glimmer of hope after all these years. Instead, her eyes shut as she mentally pushed back at the growing ache in her stomach. Daigo was saying something to her. It didn't matter. They'd always known it was possible. Even likely. Digimon were reborn all the time. Good. Bad. Holy. Viral. Why should that bastard clown have been an exception to the rule just because he'd caused nothing but pain and suffering to so many since the moment he hatched?

 _It really was all for nothing…_

"How old?"

They didn't answer.

No one else dared speak for them.

Daisuke shifted uneasily in his seat. The ongoing exchange was like a half conversation he, Iori, and Wallce couldn't fully understand—and the fact that he wasn't the only one left out of the loop this time offered little solace.

Some of it, he had already worked out. Piemon was some really, really nasty piece of work he'd never had the misfortune to meet. Taichi and the others hadn't been so lucky. He knew enough about digieggs to deduce that it was probably the same Piemon that Maki and Daigo had gone up against, reborn. Okay, fine. But why was everyone acting like only Takeru and Hikari were affected? What happened, and where were—?

"I was eight." Hikari began. She sounded lost. Almost scared. "Takeru-kun was still seven. It wasn't our first time facing a powerful Digimon, but...it was the first time we had to do it alone."

Maki's eyes hardened. She couldn't help a glance towards Daigo. He looked as uneasy as she felt.

 _So young. And against Piemon. Alone._

Takeru took over then: "He'd captured everyone else. Nii-san...Taichi-san...even Angewomon. Turned them all into dolls with some kind of magic. Only it was more than just a trick. He taunted us with them. Dangled them like decorative charms from his hand while he laughed. Sora-san was one of the last..."

Across the room, Sora tensed. She knew what was coming. The memory of that moment had replayed itself over and over in her mind more times than she ever admitted to anyone. An impossible choice. The right one, perhaps, but one that left her with years of residual guilt over having forced so much pressure upon the group's youngest.

"...but not before she told me I was the only one who could protect..." His eyes locked with Hikari's, and he faltered. "...who could protect everyone. Patamon was still with us. He had enough power to evolve to Angemon. So I took Hikari-chan...and we ran."

Despite everything, Hikari gave her best friend a weak smile. Nothing he'd said came as a surprise to her. Nor did everything he didn't say.

"You kept your promise, though, Takeru-kun." Her eyes shone with the bittersweet nostalgia that was their shared past. For a moment, it was like she were addressing him alone. Saying what she knew he needed to hear. "We survived because of you. Because you refused to give up Hope."

He found himself smiling back. "Only because you never gave up on me. He would've caught me on the rope if you hadn't held on."

"Instead, I caught you both!" Patamon chimed in a little too cheerfully, earning him a scathing look from Tailmon for daring interrupt their partners' moment. "You helped me evolve all the way to Perfect, and together, we took down Piemon and rescued everybody! I told you we make a great team."

The child digimon's words had their intended effect almost immediately. Neither Hikari nor Takeru could contain a small burst of laughter at the sentiment, blunt as he'd gone about expressing it. Even Tailmon struggled to hold back a smile behind thinly veiled exasperation. A fleeting glimpse into something that seemed almost too private for the four to share with anyone else, including friends and family.

But for Daisuke, it was also a shocking epiphany.

Everything about the last few years suddenly made sense to him now. All those unspoken understandings between them. Why they were so close. Why Hikari looked to him the way she did. Why Takeru had been so distraught each time it seemed like Hikari had disappeared. And quick to blame himself. With everything they had been through in their young lives... _together_...it was no small wonder theirs was a bond that went beyond friendship.

He wasn't the only one who had that realization; Daigo managed to tear his own eyes away from the heartwarming scene long enough to catch Maki still staring at them so intensely. And he could guess what was going on in that mind of hers all the while.

"Remind you of anyone?"

She blinked, eyes coming back into focus. "...shut up," she muttered under her breath. Taking a step forward, her next words addressed the group as a whole. "You see now why our work is so important. Everyone one of us have memories we'd all rather forget. Battle experiences we were too young to truly comprehend."

In the back of the room, Yamato's eyes narrowed.

"But we were strong as Chosen Children, and we're stronger now. With more resources and stronger firepower."

Her heels clicked sharply against the tiled floor. Mimi rolled her chair back just as Jou, Sora, and Taichi all parted way. She passed by Koushiro, who followed her movement until she was standing directly in front of the view window. With her back to them now, they could just barely make out her reflection in the polished glass. Eyes scanning the room below, and the scientific subordinates below. Each one more clever than even Sana, the smartest boy she had known growing up.

"When you mean 'firepower'..." Koushiro began hesitantly.

Maki shook her head. "No different that that of any higher-level digimon attack." She lifted a hand, pressing it to the cool surface. To the right, there was a device plugged into the system. It looked alike a canon, except the entirety of its design was electrical. Calibrated to the finest degree in conjunction with past data on similar bio-technical weaponry. "Homeostasis stole us from our homes to fight someone else's war. Well, no more. We'll protect our own like they didn't protect us. If any more digimon think they can cross over with less than passive intentions...we'll be ready."

The shift in the air as she spoke was palpable. Several glances were exchanged between the children. Tailmon looked visibly concerned. Most of the rest of the digimon took their cues from their partners. There was uncertainty. Confusion. Hesitation. Wariness.

Except for Taichi.

"She can be a bit dramatic at times," Daigo shook his head. "But she's not wrong. If all goes according to plan, the Real World will never see the likes of another Hikarigaoka or Vamdemon ever again. We'll all be safe. And..." for a moment, a flicker of light created shadows over his features. Not unlike those darkening Maki's. "...we'll be able to keep you all safe, too."

Sora and Jou shared a look. So did Daisuke and Wallace.

Yamato's expression didn't change.

Iori's wasn't much better.

But it was Taichi who stepped forward: "It...would be nice to have some backup." He seemed to be purposely avoiding eye contact with the rest of the group. "At least, until we figure out what's going on with these portals appearing."

Daigo bit back a heavy sigh as he scratched the back of his head. "That's not exactly—"

"Are you _serious?_ "

Nearly half the room jumped as Yamato's incredulous tone cut through the air like a knife. He kicked away from the wall he'd been leaning against, storming passed both Gabumon's and Mimi's looks of concern as he closed the gap between himself and Taichi.

Not for the first time, the two teens stood toe to toe. Wide brown eyes staring back at a pair of icy blues. Each searching for the other's reasoning.

"Were you even listening to what they just said? This isn't about getting a little _backup._ They want to take the fight out of our hands, and you're willing to let that happen? You?" Yamato couldn't decide if he was more angry, offended, or at a loss. So he went with all three. "After all these years...everything we've sacrificed...every _one_...are you really okay with walking away?"

Taichi bristled at the accusation. "I never said I was walking away."

"Then what?"

Daigo took a step back until he was standing between Jou and Koushiro. With about as much subtlety as Patamon, he covered his mouth with the back of one hand and whispered: "Are they always like this?"

"Yes."

"I see. Huh. Reminds me of Sana-kun and Reo-kun." He wished wistfully.

"We've gotten help before, Yamato." Taichi tried to point out. "And who better to trust than a fellow Chosen."

"You're wrong. They're not Chosen. Not anymore."

Daigo winced. "Ouch. We can hear you, you know."

"Something's not right about this, Taichi." Yamato's shoulders slumped as he took another step forward. He could practically see himself in his best friend's eyes and wondered how it was that Taichi couldn't see it too. "Why can't you—"

"Why can't _you_ stop trying to play the cool, lone wolf for ten seconds and give them a chance?"

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

Koushiro inhaled once sharply through his teeth.

Takeru and Hikari exchanged nervous glances.

Yamato shifted his weight, and everyone braced themselves. But then...he took a single, deep breath before staring Taichi down with an uncharacteristically blank expression: "Angemon...Piximon..."

Taichi's eyes widened, realizing what Yamato was doing.

So did Takeru: "Aniki..."

"Tyumon...Scumon...Leomon..."

Mimi grew visibly upset.

"Wizardmon..." Only here did Yamato pause long enough to glance back at Hikari. He contemplated regret for a moment, though not enough to stop him from adding, "...Numemon..."

Hikari's eyes watered.

Taichi saw red.

"T _he hell do you think you're doing?!_ "

He lurched forward, grabbing Yamato by the jacket collar, and a rapid chain of events followed. Takeru shot up from his seat, coming to his brother's side to take hold of one arm. Daisuke and Wallace grabbed the other. Meanwhile, Koushiro and Jou grabbed Taichi and tried to pull the muscular soccer star off. They only barely succeeded after Sora inserted herself between them, turning to Taichi and pushing his chest with all her strength. Her presence was perhaps the only thing keeping him from struggling that much harder against them all.

Yamato, too, attempted to jerk himself free, but the younger boys were all stronger than they looked. The combined muscle of basketball, soccer, and...whatever American spot Wallace must have played to keep up with the other two. He settled for blowing some of his hair away from his eyes.

"I'm making a point." He stated flatly. "They're not the only ones who watched someone they care about fall. We've lost a lot of friends too. Digimon who believed in us. We didn't give up then, did we? Even after they were gone...we mourned, but we kept going because we knew it was the right thing to do. And we'll keep on going. For them."

"Maybe it's because of them that I won't want to fight anymore!" Taichi snapped back. Then froze. Realizing what he just said.

Sora was in shock. "Taichi..."

Yamato wasn't. "I knew it." he scoffed. "Some leader..."

Taichi opened his mouth. Then closed it. His shoulders slumped and his strength left him. He didn't dare look at the disappointment on Sora's face. Or anyone else's. Deep down, he knew there was a justification somewhere. But right then, it was as lost as his will to defend himself.

He had no defense. No excuse. No argument.

"I didn't...I'm not giving up." He murmured, as much to himself as Yamato. "I just...don't want to risk losing anyone else. Not if we don't have to."

"There are worse stances to take."

Finally turning away from the window, Maki spun on those clacking heels as she returned to the front of the room. She had watched the whole of the argument unfold through a faint reflection and briefly wondered if she should have been more annoyed at them than she was. Petty arguments were for children, after all...but, then again, that's what they still were. Children.

And if making sure they were able to stay children for at least a couple more years meant knocking some sense into those thick skulls...well, better they fight each other than someone much, much worse.

"I"ll give you time to think it over." With a jerk of her head, she indicated towards the exit. Daigo got the message, following suit. "For now, I can see we're done here. One of our drivers will take you back to Odaiba. When you're ready, come find us."

"You know where I"ll be," Daigo added.

The door opened and shut once more, this time with a click that somehow resounded even louder than before

o

o

o

Cool river water flowed through her fingers. She toyed with the water's surface for several minutes, watching how the movement barely seemed to disturbed its surface. Below, dozens of rocks warn from erosion sparkled as if they were precious jewels. Above, the tree leaves tossed with every breeze. A few leaves were knocked from their peach, floating down until they were carried away by the current.

Shifting to her knees, she bent down and cupped some water in her palms. It tasted as pure as it looked. Twice more, she repeated the gesture before removing her glasses and using the fourth to splash at her face.

"That's better."

Inoue Miyako let out a sigh as she replaced her glasses. Again, she switched positions so that she was leaning back against the soft grass. Her head tilted upward. Sun continued to peek through the leaves. If she unfocused her eyes for long enough, it looked like twinkling stars. Soft and pleasantly shining down on a peaceful world below

Only she knew better. Her cheeks still felt hot with the threat of sunburn. Remnants of desert sand clung to her sneakers. The large bruise on her left knee where she'd fallen after the third wild digimon attack (or was it fourth?) was turning yellow. She poked at it once, a useless gesture that served only to remind her how tender the area still was.

"I can't believe Hikari-chan did this when she was only eight," she muttered to herself.

Her jacket lay to her left, at the base of the tree. It was filled with small berries. Enough for two. Forcing himself to a stand, she reached up to stretch before bending down to wrap the precious package with care.

Their campsite wasn't far. It took less than a minute for her to return.

"Breakfast!"

Ichijouji Ken peeked one eye open before sitting up. His neck was still stiff from the log he'd been using as a pillow, and he tilted his head to one side until he felt a relieving pop.

"I hope you're as fond of sweets as Hikari-chan," she joked lightly, coming to sit across from him. The bundle in her arms unfolded to reveal her colorful morning's work, and she made a show of selecting one of the larger, purplish-red berries, popping it in her mouth with a satisfying grin. "...and before you ask, yes, I'm sure they're safe. Koushiro-senpai had a whole file on nonpoisonous food to forage on camping trips."

Ken shook his head. "Of course he did."

Even in the face of looming uncertainty, it was difficult not to remain optimistic with Miyako around. She was just so... _embellished._ That probably wasn't the right word to use or even made sense, but to him, it was the closest he could think to describe the girl. Every comment she made came with a flourish. Every detail exaggerated. It could have started to rain, and she would have stood in the middle of it all, wildly screaming at the heavens above until the clouds conceded.

...although, given they'd just spent the last several days trekking through a digital desert...maybe that wasn't the best example to picture.

Ken wasn't sure what he'd been expecting when they'd been ambushed by that portal. Everything had happened so fast, his mind barely had time to process it all. He remembered taking the "scenic" route (her idea) on their way to meet up with Hikari. Something about the street lamps shorting out. Wind. A flash of light. The hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Sand. White and blinding from the sun's reflected rays. Miyako's voice.

"I think we should follow the stream."

Speaking of. She was saying something to him in between healthy bites. There were berries in his hand too. His mouth tasted sweet. He'd been functioning on autopilot again. Following her lead simply because. He found himself nodding at her suggestions even before it registered that they were actually good ideas. Because they were. The river was the first source of freshwater they'd found since that one cactus desert a Cockatrimon sliced open (that had been their...second encounter?) And on top of that, the presence of water meant a chance of finding—

Behind them, a branch cracked. Leaves rustled. Sounds too heavy to have been caused by wind alone.

They spun towards the source. Miayko felt the ground for a large stick. Or a rock. Anything that could be used as a defense weapon. Iori had taught her a few basic self-defense moves during her visits to his family's dojo, and she learned after the first two times that the digimon of this sector were...were…

The offending digimon came into view.

Every step it took, she tilted her head higher and higher.

"...big. Really...really big..."

It gave a low snort, growling as if it could understand and took offense to her observation.

Miyako shrieked, abandoning all thoughts of offensive weaponry in favor of darting behind Ken. Her eyes shut tightly as she gripped part of his shirt with both hands, pressing her forehead into the back of his neck. Considering of such close proximity was lost to fear.

Similarly, Ken was too taken aback to think of blushing. Too busy staring up at the digimon. It's silvery, metallic helmet. Four large, blood-red wings. Grey, muscular, and semi-anthropomorphic form with clawed feet and menacing talons for claws. Imposing. Dangerous. But also...familiar…

"Oi!" The voice of a young man called to them from beyond the trees. More rustling. A white-cloaked figure emerged. "What did I say about..." But he trailed off, stopping in his tracks when he got a good look at his partner's intended prey. Human. Both of them. And not just human, but: "...Ken?"

Ken did a double-take at the sound of his name.

"But that's...no, you can't be. Except you are." Beneath his shadowed hood, the figure's lips twisted into a frown. "This isn't good."

"What's not good?" Ken wanted to know. "And who are you?"

Behind, he could feel Miyako daring to peek over his left shoulder.

To their mutual surprise, the figure actually laughed. A low, humorous chuckle. Hardly full of mirth, but appreciating the situation for what it was. He followed it up with a light snort before reaching for the hem of his hood. Using both hands, he pushed it up and back. Spiky-brown hair appeared. Tanned skin. Blue eyes. And a knowing smirk Ken had definitely seen before.

"Akiyama Ryo." The 20-year-old Legendary Tamer stepped forward, closing the remaining distance between them. Behind, Cyberdramon gave a huff of disapproval, only to be silenced when Ryo held up a single hand. "Don't worry. He only bites when I say it's okay. Though I'm afraid he does have a point." His smirk faltered as he glanced back and forth between the wide-eyed pair. "As happy as I am to see you again, Ken, we have a problem. You're not supposed to be in this Digital World."

"Ryo-san...I can't believe you're here." Ken stared up at the young man in utter disbelief.

Miyako's brows furrowed as she tentatively took a step out from behind him. Ken's reaction was enough to convince her that this guy wasn't a threat, but… "What do you mean this Digital World?"

"Long story. One I—actually, you know what? Better I just show you." He took a step back, ignoring the question marks hovering over their heads. "Hold on a second, will you?"

Turning away, he placed a hand to his ear. His eyes turned downward as he set his focus on the small comlink, listening for sighs of the signal reestablishing itself. A high pitched ringing gave way to white noise, and sure enough, the sounds of a female gasp.

His face lit up. He couldn't help himself. "Akiyama here. Hope you didn't miss me too—"

" _Akiyama-san?_ "

His face fell almost immediately. That was not the voice he'd been expecting to hear.

"Juri?" Surprise gave way to confusion. Then concern. "What happened? Where's—"

" _Out on patrol._ " She cut in again as if anticipating his question. Which she probably was. Most of the time, he liked to think of himself as unpredictable. Now was not one of those times. " _In her defense, she was pulling double shifts, waiting for you to check in every day for a week straight._ _Even Alice-chan called her out on it. Next time, you should really be a little more considerate."_

He would have felt far more flattered if something she'd just said hadn't struck him right in the chest: "A week? It's been a week?"

" _Three, actually. Well...more like two and a half, but you know she's going to say three."_

"...shit." He muttered under his breath, forgetting to censor himself in front of the others. Reaching up with one hand, he rubbed at both temples with his thumb and middle finger. "I really hope you're making a bad joke right now, Juri, because it's been less than a day here since I jumped."

The radio silence on her end was all it took for him to know she wasn't joking.

" _That's...not good._ "

"Yeah, tell me about it." He spun back around to face Ken and...er...oh, wow, she looked eerily familiar too. For a different reason. "And it's not about to get any better. Get Yamaki. Now. Tell him to open up a portal as soon as possible."

" _But..."_

"Just follow my signal. We'll still be here. Akiyama out."

The connection cut out. His hand lowered.

Ken was staring at him like he'd grown a second head.

He felt the slight shift in the wind even before the first sparks appeared. Yellow at first. Then blue. Electricity crackling and swirling into a deepening pit of pinks and lavenders until the collars slowly pulled themselves apart. The portal grew until it stood roughly five meters in height. An image slowly came into focus. Like looking through a frosted window.

Once it stabilized, Ryo gestured towards it with a single jerk of his head.

"Next stop: the long story."


	9. NINE

**SPECIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: A comment in the review section asked about Maki and Daigo's ages, to which I can only respond… ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

According to my research, the Original-Original Chosen **might** have been about eleven years old in 1995, when their fight against Piemon took place (which COINCIDENTALLY is also the same year as Hikarigaoka. _I see you, TRI writers_ ). With TRI taking place in 2005, that would put Maki and Daigo at all of 21. I think. However, _Balance_ purposelydisplaces this encounter all the way back to 1991, which would age them up to about mid to late 20s. Which, given Maki's status with the Agency and Daigo's school placement, makes a little more sense to me.

NOW THAT THAT'S BEEN SETTLED (somewhat)...I shall now interrupt your irregularly scheduled Adventure updates to do a little World Building; I openly admit a fondness for Season 3, and with TRI containing so many Tamers parallels, the opportunity for a solid crossover was too good to resist. I'll also be borrowing a bit of influence from _Brave Tamer_ , though I promise you won't have had to play the game to understand. ( **I've** never actually played the game, either.)

o

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

A gust of wind blew through a windowless room. It smelled of grass and earth. Screens lining the walls began to flicker. A glass of water vibrated as it hit resonant frequency. Fluorescent bulbs surged and dimmed at the frequency of a rapid pulse.

Not unlike the increased heartrates of everyone left to pay witness.

In the center of it all, the growing portal continued to swirl around itself. Stabilized in all three triangulation points, it would have been easy to equate it to the eye of a hurricane in its serenity. Until the first ripples appeared. Like water flowering over a mirrored surface.

First, came the familiar. Ryo and Cyber—no, the moment the fearsome digimon touched their reality's surface, he devolved back into Monodramon (much to the relief of several technicians). Ryo stood tall and proud and allowed himself a moment to revel in his return, reaching up to stretch both arms over his head. The Legendary Tamer then needed only glance at his now Child partner to garner his attention, and together, they shared a nod before stepping to one side. And waited.

Two more ripples appeared. Two new figured emerged.

Ken's entrance was a bit less dignified, stumbling forward before coming to rest both hands on his knees. His breathing was labored and he had to close his eyes to suppress an oncoming wave of vertigo. Miyako didn't fare much better, almost immediately collapsing to her knees with her head bowed.

"Ugh. I think...I'm going to be sick…."

Ryo winced sympathetically, scratching at the back of his neck. "Sorry. I forgot how disorienting it can be the first time. You get used to it after a while."

Neither of them found that very reassuring.

Ken swallowed a rising lump in his throat, which was dry and scratchy. He tried to remember if he'd been this thirsty a few moments earlier. Was it the berries Miyako had foraged for them? They'd been sweet and juicy and she'd been certain they were safe to eat, but maybe interdenominational travel was like swimming. Better to wait fifteen minutes before diving in.

"Here." A woman's voice spoke. "Take this."

There was something...vaguely familiar about it. Something his mind was still too caught up on digital berries to fully process. Rather than dwell on the thought, he took one last breath to steady himself before straightening.

And did an immediate double-take.

She was older, for certain. Late twenties. Maybe early thirties, with a fantastic skincare regime. Her hair was more on the reddish-brown side and her eyes were a mesmerizingly deep shade of blue. So there were some notable differences to take into account. But beyond that? Her features...her voice...for a second, Ken would have sworn he was looking at an older Miyako.

Otori Reika didn't give much thought to the younger boy's staring. Not at first. He was clearly in shock from an ordeal previously thought to be beyond reach to all but one. And almost certainly dealing with temporal-spacial displacement sickness. Poor thing.

She reached over, placing a glass as securely in both his hands as he seemed capable. "It's mostly ginger ale. I added a few drops of aromatic bitters to help with the..."

But she trailed off when the young girl beside him finally managed the strength to stand. Their eyes met, widened into mirroring expressions, and suddenly the boy's staring made sense.

"...oh..."

" _Akiyama-san!"_

A cry of delight rang through the air, and Ryo had only a split second to react before being attacked by a blur of brown and green. Deceptively strong arms threw themselves around his neck. He flinched, but only in surprise; their weight wasn't nearly enough to knock him over. Once his mind caught up, he recognized the subsequent fits of giggles as belonging to none other than one Katou Juri.

He felt himself relax. A smile appeared, and he gladly returned the hug.

"Careful, Juri." He teased the enthusiastic seventeen-year-old. "You're gonna end up making your boyfriend jealous."

She pulled back to meet his gaze, still giggling. "Never!" Lowering herself back down to ground level, she reached up to brush back some of the hair that had gone astray in all her excitement. "Besides, Takato-kun would have beaten me to it if he were here. He says patrols go so much smoother when you're out there with him, and he's missed you a ton."

It didn't take much for Ryo to imagine all the things that could have gone wrong in his stead. He spared his fellow Tamer a pitiful thought as he stepped away from Juri long enough to check the clock. It was an old analogue model—the better to minimize risk of digital interference—and so, even as he got _2:19_ from its hands, he had no way of knowing whether that meant it was the middle of the afternoon, or late at night.

"Are they still out?"

"No." Juri shook her head. "They came back maybe half an hour after you called, but we had the portal up ten min—and there he goes..."

Ryo hadn't bothered to wait for her to finish. He was already halfway to the exit, and judging from that particular gleam in his eye, Juri knew it would be pointless trying to call him out on it now. His mind was elsewhere. His motives obvious. Hands resting on both hips, she could only shake her head as she watched him disappear down the corridor.

"If he's lucky, she'll be too tired to kill him properly."

Miyako glanced over at Ken in silent question. He shrugged, as lost in all this as she was.

"I highly doubt she'll ever be too tired for that."

A new voice. Male.

There was a palpable change throughout the room. With the exception of Reika and Juri, every last person tensed. A chorus of eyes turned to the doorway Ryo previously disappeared through, only to find a blonde man more than ten years his senior standing just inside the frame. Dark shades hid his eyes from view, further emphasizing his stoic features. Features that also looked familiar.

Then he removed the sunglasses, and though his eyes were also different, the resemblance grew that much stronger.

Miyako's jaw dropped. "Takeru-kun?!"

"Yamaki." The man appeared unfazed by the mistaken identity. Nor did he look to question it. "Yamaki Mitsuo. And you are…?"

"Extremely confused," Ken responded weakly.

"What he said." Miyako's shoulders slumped. She was starting to get a headache. "So who's your goggle-wearing soccer player, then?"

She'd meant it as a joke, but Juri immediately glanced over her shoulder with a look of amusement. "Actually, Takato-kun's an artist. He's really good. And I'm not just saying that because I'm biased...even though I definitely am." With that, she turned back just as Yamaki came up beside her, offering her superior an emphatic salute. "Sir!"

Only Reika would notice the subtle change in Yamaki's expression as he flickered his attention towards the young girl. It was an open secret (one of many) how he held a soft spot for her. Even more than the rest of the Tamers. Because she'd been through so much more, and somehow came out of it smiling that much brighter. Not to mention, unlike Hirokazu, her shows of respect were always genuine.

She was rewarded with a light bow of his head and a ghost of a smile before it was back to business.

"I imagine the two of you must have a lot of questions right now," he addressed the two newcomers.

They nodded.

"If we're lucky, we might be able to answer some of them. In due time. But first..." He turned to Reika. "Have you scanned them yet?"

"I thought I'd give them a minute to adjust. They're just kids."

"And in another dimension, that might actually mean something."

"... _fine."_ (Was it Miyako's imagination, or did that sound a little curt? And...wait...did she just sigh in annoyance at her supposed boss?!) "The two of you, follow—oh, wait."

She'd taken a single step before doubling back. Fortunately, neither Ken nor Miyako had yet to even budge.

"You're not pregnant, are you?" She abruptly asked.

Miyako's face went _red_ as Ken's soul momentarily left his body, leaving him a pale ghost of his former self.

" _I'm fifteen!"_

"I'll take that as a 'no'." Reika stated casually. As if she hadn't been defending their innocence seconds earlier. Her thoughts seemed strangely distant as she nodded to herself. "Good. Two of the scanners emit a bit of low level radiation. Fine for you and me. Bad for baby."

Never before had Miyako wished so badly for an inter-dimensional portal to rip open through the very fabric of space and time and swallow her whole. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Ken was very pointedly not looking at her. She was going to die right there and then of utter mortification, but not before disowning her former alleged doppel—

One of the chairs stationed at the center console swiveled around to reveal a tiny, white creature. A digimon, perhaps, although neither Miyako nor Ken recognized it. Wearing a head-set much too large for its head to be effective, it smiled and wave before throwing its little paws into the air in excitement.

"Culumon!" Juri laughed, coming to a crouch in front of the seat to meet the digimon at eye level. "What are you doing?"

"I'm helping, Juri~culu!"

Biting back a laugh, she didn't have the heart to tell him the com system was currently turned off. "I'm sure you are."

The heat slowly faded from Miyako's cheeks as she watched the scene unfold. Little Culumon squirmed as if he were a human child rather than digimon Child, nuzzling his face into Juri's open hand while she gave him a scratch behind his ear. They were either partners, or else shared a similar form of human-digimon bond. One that reminded Miyako all too much of her dear Poromon.

Without realizing, her hand had reached for Ken's. She squeezed his fingers in search of support.

Consciously or otherwise, he squeezed back.

o

o

Ryo heard her voice before he even reached the common room entrance.

"For the last time, I _told you_ not to listen to those broadcasts. Not only are they unsanctioned, most of the time, they're embarrassingly stupid."

And he knew at once who she was talking to. Because he knew her.

Her silhouette stood in the center of the far walled window, shadowed against an unusually cloudless night sky. Moonlight poured into the room, illuminating more than half of the two dozen rooms lined on either side. From where he stood, four were immediately visible. Only one was cracked open, remnants of steam drifting into the air. She was alone; the others were either dead to the world in sleep behind closed doors, or simply elsewhere.

Originally intended for HYPNOS staff in consolation for mandatory hours once required, the dormitory wing had long since become an unofficial home away from home for the Tamers. Somewhere to crash safely, away from prying paparazzi or spontaneous glitches (rogue digimon gone mad from a yet-unidentified viral infection). Over the last few years, personal effects were brought in. Not much. Clothing. Toiletries. Some sparring equipment from Jian and Xiaochun's family dojo. Takato apparently papered several quarters with artwork doodled in his few precious hours of spare time, and no one ever had the heart to take them down.

Similarly, understandings of privacy went unspoken between the eleven. No one dared enter the quarters of another, and they all knew perfectly well which belonged to whom. There were, of course, a few obvious exceptions. Siblings were constantly renegotiating terms of how often check-ins could be performed. Makoto and Ai also stillshared custody of their digimon partner, though Impmon more often than not preferred to go _out_ at night. On a less familiar note, Takato and Juri were known to trade off sleeping arrangements to such a degree that they'd probably forgotten who was originally supposed to be where. It was a running joke among the rest of the group that typically left the boy in a stuttering, blushing mess.

Most of the others were content to remain in their self-imposed isolation—

"I wasn't _with them!_ The idiots ran off to the West Sector without checking in. Alice and I spent most of the night chasing after them instead of herding glitches."

But she wasn't in her room then. Neither was he.

"Not many. Only two."

Her back was to him, staring out the window as she continued arguing over the phone. At fifty stories above ground level, the cityscape below looked as distant as the heavens above. Streetlights twinkled like stars. A backdrop of peace and quiet. No further signs of disturbances that night.

He stepped inside the room. Silent as the night.

She remained oblivious to his approach.

"I am _not_ being unreasonable," she snapped into the phone before lifting her head. "I'm just—"

Her eyes refocused as a second face in the reflection appeared, and Makino Ruki darted around to find herself standing meters from (a very pleased looking) Ryo. She froze, lips parted in mid-word.

A few months back, she'd made a spontaneous decision to chop off most of her hair. He still remembered the day she'd spent half her lunch break trying to justify it to Juri. Chin-length bobs were far easier to manage, she'd insisted, and so much better to deal with when merged with her partner. Yet her fiery, auburn locks proved as stubborn as she at any length. Even then, they stuck up at every imaginable angle. Strewn across her forehead and cheeks. Wild and uncombed. And wet. Either it had rained recently, or else she'd just come from the shower.

" _Ruki-chan? Are you there?_ " The voice of Makino Rumiko echoed from the cell speakers, cutting into their wordless reunion. " _You better not have hung up on me, young lady."_

She was staring at him, openly and blatantly. The look on her face was one he knew he would cherish for weeks to come. Stunned and utterly speechless from either the shock or awe. He liked to flatter himself into thinking it was the latter. That his sudden reappearance had left her in a state where words failed. That, no matter what Juri said, there were still some unpredictable qualities left in him.

" _Ruki-chan!_ "

"...I'm here, 'kaa-san." Not only did she managed to reclaim her voice, but it remained as steady as if the person she'd been waiting for three weeks' time hadn't just up and magically appeared in front of her with that stupid smile filled with impossibly perfect teeth. "I'm not hanging up until I can get you to listen to reason."

" _I'd like to think I'm the one being perfectly reasonable here._ "

"You would," Ruki muttered in such a dry tone, he had to chuckle.

By then, the situation had become clear to him. Rumiko had always been one of the more accepting and supportive of the Tamer parents. More than Juri's. Definitely more than Ryo's. Possibly even more than Jiangyu, despite the ex Wild Bunch member's unparalleled comprehension of all things digimon. But every mother had her limits, and not every mother had Ruki for a daughter.

There was only one solution to their impending stalemate: Ryo extended a hand for her phone.

Confusion. At first. Alternating between his hand and eyes. She couldn't decide if he was being serious. When she realized he was, she raised an eyebrow. The delay in reaction was such that, for a moment, Ryo was starting to think she would brush him off. Maybe even slap his hand away. But then, either out of curiosity or simply because his presence had thrown her that much off her game, she relented.

Grinning, he held up the receiver to his ear. "Hello, Rumiko-san."

" _...ah! Ryo-kun! "_ Her change in tone was immediate. _"Is that really you? Does that mean you're finally back! How wonderful!"_

Ryo never did fully understand why Ruki's mother liked him so much. He certainty didn't mind, as it came with a number of advantages on his part. He just had no explanation. His perceived looks and/or charismatic charm might have had something to do with it, except he'd seen her on the road interacting with idol-level superstars. Makino Rumiko was not a woman to be taken in by outward appearances alone, despite what many thought of her. She was friendly and sweet and, yes, sometimes even a little flirty with those types...but he always swore there was an ever subtle change to her demeanor whenever they spoke.

For example, right then? She was definitely gushing.

" _Does Ruki-chan know? No, wait. Don't answer. Of course she knows. You're on her cell._ " Laughter at her own mistake. " _Is she still there with you, or did she run off to sulk again?_ "

As if to prove her point, Ruki glowered at the insinuation.

"She's still here," Ryo insisted, watching the girl in question's facial features with renewed interest.

There was a small mark on her lower jaw. Faint discoloration. The beginnings of a bruise starting to form. He hadn't noticed at first, but the longer he took her in, the more apparent it became. With his free hand, he curled a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up ever so slightly. She didn't protest, and with the aid of the moon, he was able to get a proper look.

 _She'll need ice, with that much swelling._

"I hope you'll forgive me for interrupting." All he while, he maintained his casual tone with Rumiko. She was none the wiser. "It's just that I couldn't help overhearing the two of you earlier, and I thought it might help if you knew that yes, she's still standing in front of me right now...which is how I can say, in all truth, that's she's fine. There isn't a single scratch on her."

Ruki's brows _both_ rose at his statement.

" _I see. Well...that is a relief to hear._ " As he predicted, she didn't once consider second-guessing him. It was too easy. " _Some of the latest outlets were reporting on the day's sightings, and they distinctly mentioned Sakuyamon taking a particularly nasty fall against that one bug...thing...oh, you know the one."_

Off the top of his head, he didn't. He tried looking to Ruki for answers, but she was suddenly finding eye contact to be a challenge. Well, now he at least knew where her bruise came from.

"The media's taken to exaggerating a bit lately, Rumiko-san. You're in the entertainment business, so I'm sure you understand. Ever since the glitch appearances slowed, they'd had to fill their airtime with something. A story for their audience. That's all it is."

Even Ruki had to admit, he sounded extremely plausible.

" _You're absolutely right, Ryo-kun_." He could practically hear her nodding on the other end. " _Heroic_ _and_ _clever. Have I mentioned how glad I am you're back to look after my Ruki-chan for me?_ "

It was, in every way, exactly the wrong thing to say; Ryo didn't have to look to know there was lightning in Ruki's eyes. She glared heatedly at her own cell phone, as if hoping to transmit her annoyance via radio waves.

"You haven't." Remaining calm in the face of an oncoming storm, he tilted his head to one side long enough to catch her gaze before adding, "But, you see...the thing is? She takes care of herself just fine."

The lightening faded. Her eyes softened. A little.

" _Ohoho...as expected from Ryo-kun! Ah! If she's still there, could you put her back on, please?_ "

Nodding his agreement, he pulled the phone away from his ear. Before Ruki had a chance to take it back, however, he gently pressed the receiver to hers, holding it securely in place on her behalf. She looked to him in surprise, reflexively bringing up one hand to place over his. Her fingertips felt like fire against his skin; normally, she ran cooler than he did, so the difference was immediately apparent.

The rest of the conversation was lost to Ryo's ears until long after she bid her mother farewell and hung up. At some point, his hand slid out from beneath hers, but only so he could close most of the remaining gap between them. She stuttered once at his sudden proximity, then recovered quickly. Centimeters apart, only slivers of moonlight were left between them. He reached up to brush over the bruise on her chin. Gently, so as to not cause her any more pain. The area was already tender enough. Then his fingers gradually moved upward.

It wasn't just her hands, after all. Her cheeks remained flushed.. Heat radiated off every inch of her exposed skin. He could even feel it through the thick, over-sized sweatshirt she wore. Except her eyes were far too clear for it to be from fever. She'd cranked the water temperature of her shower up to scalding again. Something she only ever did when returning from a battle that left her particularly sore.

She was, in multiple senses of the word, a hot mess.

He was captivated.

She was aware.

"You lied to my mom," she murmured at one point.

"Technically, that's not true. I told her you didn't have a single scratch. I never said anything about bruises."

His grin was a bit too smug. He was right, but in the most aggravating way.

She scoffed. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. Inhaling once through her nose, she held it for a solid count of four before slowly let out the breath in a steady stream of air through barely parted lips. Part of him recognized it as a technique Jian had taught her to better calm her mind whenever she grew frustrated. Part of him was a little too distracted by said technique to think of much else.

But then she abruptly pulled away from him. His hand and body immediately registered the lack of warmth, bringing him back to the present moment. And their current situation.

He wagered a guess.

"How mad are you right now?"

"Yes."

He guessed right.

A wince. "Would it help if I said I had an excuse this time?"

Her expression had gone neutral. It unnerved him. She was too calm. Ruki was never calm. She was a hot-headed firecracker who wasn't afraid to let the entire world know when she was pissed off. She yelled. On rare occasions, she cursed. But she never fell so quiet that he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Or feeling.

He was beginning to think he had _really_ screwed up this time.

"Ruki, I—"

"I'm not mad you were gone for three weeks." Her arms came up to lightly wrap around her torso. Ryo could have sworn he saw a certain wetness to her eyes, but he brushed that thought aside. "You've left before. You'll leave again. And don't say you won't, because then you _will_ be lying."

He didn't. Because she was right.

At the same time, however, he was left even more confused. "Then why…?"

Her head dipped downward, eyes lowering to the ground. Her lips parted. She took another breath, as if to speak, but nothing came out. Then he saw it. The very slight tremor in her hand. She was shaking. Not from cold. Not from anger. There was only one possibility.

His body moved of its own accord as he once more went to her, but this time, not even the moon would get between them. He held her close as he had ever dared. Forehead centimeters from hers, not quite touching. If he closed his eyes and thought about it, he could smell the scent of honey from her shampoo. Feel her staggered breath colliding with his. His hands came to rest on her shoulders before gradually sliding down her arms.

"Ruki," he murmured her name with none of his usual charming facade. That was gone now. Only raw emotion remained. "Tell me."

She wasn't... _un_ responsive. Her head dipped forward, and for a time, the skin of her forehead brushed against his. Then she pulled back to meet his gaze, and it was there Ryo finally saw it. The same war he waged with himself every single day. Words unspoken between them. Sentiments unshared. Feelings unacknowledged. A line barely the width of a single strand of hair that neither dare cross.

"I just...hate that you go where I can't follow."

He felt the breath leave his lungs. "Ruki..."

He should have realized sooner. Cutting her com-link was one thing when it was only for a few hours. A day, at most, to give her time to get over it. He'd done it before. But this time, he hadn't cut her off for only a few hours or even a day. As far as she knew, he'd disappeared for two and a half weeks without so much as a word.

Not only was it blatantly obvious in hindsight, but the evidence was literally on her face. Her bruise. A wound earned in battle. Physical evidence that she continued to fight on the front-lines with the strongest of them, rather than hide behind someone else. That's who she was. That's why it never bothered Ryo much when she got hurt. At least, not superficially. With any of the other girls...Ai...Xiaochun...Alice...and especially Juri...the slightest hint of grievance would have him seeing red. They were fighters in their own way, but the differences in power to the enemy were too apparent. Because they weren't Ruki.

He still remembered the day she first transformed. That stupid, brave leap of faith necessary to become one with her partner in Matrix Evolution. He'd been right there to witness it. Naively thinking he was the one who would have to rescue her. Standing by her side until he suddenly wasn't. And then she became Sakuyamon in all her ethereal presence, and his fourteen-year-old self had never felt such awe as he did for her then.

Of course someone so strong and capable would resent being left behind.

She was looking to him now. Awaiting his reaction.

He didn't know what to say. His eyes turned downward. Her lips were dry. Chapped. Dangerous thoughts crept into his mind. Actions he knew he wouldn't, couldn't, and shouldn't pursue. Not even on her cheek or forehead.

The first time he'd gone back though the portal, about a month after Yamaki claimed to have perfected the stabilization process, she'd refused to see him off. Everyone else had come. Even Renamon was there, lurking in the back of the room behind the rest. He hadn't thought too much of it at the time. He was newly seventeen-( _the same age she was now_ )-and prepared for the risks. Though, in the back of his mind, there had been that nagging thought that, should they fail in bringing him back, he would never get the chance to see her again.

The second time came almost a year later. He'd been alone with Yamaki and Reika and the latter had handed him a small cell. Ruki's voice had come through. He couldn't remember what exactly she'd said to him or what he'd said back. If she'd been yelling or upset or just wanted to get in one last snide remark before he was gone again. He'd been a week shy of his eighteenth birthday. She was still months away from turning fifteen. Neither of them had technically said goodbye before he was all but forced to hang up.

More than two years and a half dozen experimental trips later, and she refused to let him go unless it was her voice on the other end of the com-link. So stark a contrast from her earliest reactions. Yet...as he later came to realize...they were all for the same reason.

 _...where I can't follow…_

"What if you could?" He found himself asking. "What if it were possible after all? Would you come with me?"

She stared up at him, mouth agape. She hadn't expected him to ask.

And he didn't expect her to answer. She didn't need to.

His was a duel existence; he'd spent half his life as a resident of another world and the other half drifting in and out of this one. Memories of _before_ were stillhazy on a good day, but he did remember consciously making the decision. He'd wanted to leave his original world behind. His was a wanderlust that could never be fully satiated because he had no solid roots keeping him tethered.

Ruki did. This world was her life. The only life she had ever known. She had her mother and her grandmother. She had Juri and Jian and the rest of the Tamers. Friends. Family. There was a reason why he could never truly ask her to leave them all behind, throw it all away and run off to worlds unknown with him.

Because he knew she would say no.

o

o

"Did Ryo-san have to go through all of this?" Ken asked as he watched the man who wasn't Takeru closely.

The metal table he sat on was cold to the touch. And uncomfortable; from the other side of the curtained partition, he could hear Miyako shifting uneasily. She hated doctors. She even hated visiting the school nurse. The last time Hikari had gotten sick, she'd spent so much time working herself up over going to visit her that Taichi had already come to get her. He never got around to asking what it was about them that made her so nervous...though, right then, he could easily share the sentiment.

He also wondered if vaccination needles had been that big back home, or if he was somehow misrepresenting.

"Akiyama is a...special case," Yamaki told him. His words were hesitant, but he was very deliberate in his neck actions. Filling the disposable syringe with half a vial of clear liquid. Checking for air bubbles. Lightly pushing any out through the needle. "I understand you two were previously acquainted. If so, you should hear it from him. It's quite the tale."

Movement from the other side. Gentle humming of machines. A split-second of whirring. Miyako's older counterpart must have been finishing up the last of her blood-work as well.

Ironically, it had been Miyako herself who'd first realized what it was they were looking for.

" _Pathogens,"_ she'd stated, surprising even herself.

" _Pathogens?"_ he'd echoed

He knew what they were, of course. A broad term for anything that could potentially carry disease. Viruses. Bacteria. Germs. Any microorganism they carried on their person. His confusion came as to why they were suddenly a factor. He and Miyako had traveled to other worlds before. Multiple times. And the digimon had been back and forth to the Real World without so much as a single stop at the local vet.

" _Because The Digital World is made of data_ ," she had explained. It was the calmest she had sounded since their whole ordeal began, so even though that had been enough for it to click, he let her continue. _"And so are the digimon. But this is the Real World._ _Or at least a Real World. With flesh and blood humans. Heavy emphasis on the blood. We could be carrying something this world had never seen before, or exposed to something our immune systems aren't prepared to—OW!"_

" _All done,"_ he'd heard Reika declare, no doubt finding opportunity in her distraction to administer the needle.

And now it was his turn.

He supposed they were lucky. After an hour-long, full physical exam, they'd come away with only a single missing antibody. Everything else was normal. All five senses. All twelve cranial nerves. Pulse. Blood pressure (that one, admittedly, came as a surprise to him). They'd even done that thing Jou-senpai had once showed them where the doctor tapped over the front and back torso to listen for any abnormalities. What did he call it? Percussion? That.

Yamaki must have noticed his wary gaze, because he lingered back. The needle was prepared, but there was still one thing left he had to do.

"I know we can't expect you to trust us quite so easily."

Ken was taken aback by the bluntness. He had hoped his facial expressions hadn't betrayed him so easily, but apparently they had.

Yamaki turned back to the small cupboard he'd pulled the vaccine from. On the other side of the top drawer, there was a large strip of medical tape. He pulled out a sufficient length, cutting it at the base with his teeth. With that, he set to work wrapping it around his arm, just above the elbow. He tied it tight, constructing blood flow to his brachial pulse.

"You have no reason to. Trust is something that needs to be earned. Not vouched for by an old acquaintance." To Ken's shock, he plunged the needle into his own vein, slowly pushing the syringe until the entirety of its contents were gone. "...but you have my word that we'll do what we can to earn that trust for as long as you remain here."

He supposed it was meant to be reassuring. In a way, it...kind of was? At least, in the sense that Yamaki had proven the vaccine was safe. If he was willing to inject it into his own veins to prove a point, then who was Ken to argue? Not a doctor. Not even a medical student.

He nodded his consent.

Yamaki administered the shot. It hurt, but no worse than any other he'd received before.

He felt tired. He shouldn't have felt tired. They'd only been up for a few hours, Digital World time. And he was pretty sure he'd gotten a full night's sleep. So why was his body so ready to comply when Yamaki offered to elevate the table into a makeshift bed? Why did his eyelids feel so heavy?

" _You might feel a bit drowsy afterwards. It's pretty normal for this strain._ "

Oh, right. That.

"...Ken?"

Miyako was calling to him now. Not the older one who wasn't actually her. Miyako-Miyako.

"Here," he called back.

The machines in the back of the room continued to hum, filling the pockets of silence with a lulling white noise. It was just the two of them now. Not!Miyako and Not!Takeru had left. He didn't remember the door opening or closing. Rustling paper alerted him to her movement, but it was slow and carried a weight of lethargy. She must have turned over on her side.

"I'm scared," she admitted, and for some reason, he felt an ache in his chest. "...but...I'm glad you're here with me."

He stared at the lights on the ceiling, counting each tiny speck floating around the glowing light. Barely registering her words, even though he heard them as clear as day. He didn't blush. He didn't stutter. He still felt uneasy about it all, but...as he slowly drifted off into a drug-induced slumber…a soft smile appeared.

"I feel the same way, Miya...chan..."

Miyako could tell from the way his voice drifted off that he was asleep. She smiled weakly too at the shared sentiment, pressed her lips together before willing her own eyes to close. Settling down into a slightly more comfortable position, head resting against the small pillow she'd been provided…

o

...until his last words echoed in her mind's ears, and she sat up with a start:

" _What did he just call me?"_


	10. TEN

Long time no post, dear readers!

I hope you are all well, safe, and (relatively) healthy. To say things have been a bit while since my last update would be a gross understatement. I can't go into ALL the detail as to what's been happening in my corner of the world, but I will state that, as a Teacher, I've been running around the last several weeks trying to adapt to Distance Learning. It's not easy, let alone for preschool-aged children, and combined with the online training I'm doing for behavior management and emotional intelligence support, a lot of my weekdays are a lost cause for the foreseeable future.

I did make the local papers for hosting an online social distance "dance party" with my coworkers, so there is that! Also celebrated a birthday, stayed in touch with friends via online game play, and picked up Animal Crossing. Which...yeah. Plus, I have been watching Psi and I am **so here for everything that is happening** and might be willing to whip up a few one-shots in the coming weeks between Balance updates, kind of like how I was doing for TRI.

In the meanwhile...I'm taking these things one day at a time, one chapter at a time.

o

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

"...is he dead?"

Chibimon touched a tiny paw to his chin as he stared up at the slumped figure, mildly concerned. Beside him, Minomon looked far more uneasy at the thought that the situation probably warranted, given that literally every other digimon in the room appeared unfazed. Even Poromon and Upamon remained engrossed in their ongoing card game against Tailmon and Patamon.

Terriormon alone seemed willing to acknowledge the question, though not enough to get up from his spot, laying upside-down on the nearby love-seat: "He snores awfully loud for a dead person."

Koushiro seemed to take that as his cue, letting out a series of snorts and half-mumbled that echoed offf every corner of his family's study.

"Taichi's louder," Agumon and Tailmon stated dryly.

Chibimon looked to them in empathy.

"Shh!" Tentomon let out a cross between a buzz and a hiss. He sat at the base of his human partner's chair, occasionally glancing up to make sure the poor boy was still breathing. That position couldn't have been comfortable. "You'll wake him."

"Doesn't he have school?" Palmon pointed to the nearby wall clock. Glints of sunlight peeking from behind the large curtain in the back of the room reflected off its polished surface, slightly obscuring the 07:56 blinking in bright green. "Mimi said that she was supposed to start school on Monday. Today is Monday, right?"

"Which one's Monday, again?" Agumon asked.

Tailmon glanced up from her latest hand. Her poker face was typically excellent, but there was no hiding the slight twitch of excitement as she eyed Poromon for the expected tell. There was only one person who could ever beat her in Go Fish, and Gomamon had been unanimously banned from playing (much to his chagrin).

"Remember the days Hikari had to shake Taichi extra hard to wake him up? Those were Mondays."

"They were?" Agumon had to think. Then his eyes lit up in renewed excitement. "Right! You mean the days their mom made those delicious omelet-things! If that's what Monday is, then every day should be Monday!"

"SHH!" Tentomon chastised again.

Everyone continued to ignore him.

"I wonder if Koushiro's mom knows how to make omelets?" Piyomon wondered, waving a single chopstick in idle thought.

Its twin currently sat on the coffee table, abandoned as an unnecessary substitute once it was decided that using two chopsticks at once was too challenging for the feathered digimon. She much preferred to stab the leftover dumplings with one, holding it to her beak like shish kebab. It didn't work quite so well with the noodles, but she'd happily passed those over to Terriormon in exchange for his share of the rice balls.

Lopmon, too, had agreed to a similar trade with Gabumon as the two sat over by the television. They had found some early morning anime airing, and the American digimon was quite entertained at the differences between cartoons in Japan compared to the ones he was used to watching back home. Gabumon just liked the story, though he often hid most of his laughter behind a claw in embarrassment.

The earlier exchange between his new friends had caught the rabbit digimon's interest, however, and he waited until there was a lull in conversation before daring to ask: "Do Agumon and Tailmon both live with Taichi? I thought Tailmon was Hikari's partner."

"I am." Tailmon sat back, allowing Minomon to attempt to comfort a distraught Poromon in his moment of loss. "Hikari is Taichi's little sister. They live together, so when they go home, we both go with them."

"Whaa~" Terriormon's paws lifted into the air and he nearly lost his balance in the process. Flopping onto his belly, he steadied himself enough to lift his head, smiling brightly. "So when a human Chosen has a big brother, all their partners get to live together too. Just like we get to both live with Wallace. How cool!"

Across the room, his younger twin mirrored his expression.

Patamon and Gabumon shared an uneasy glance.

A knock at the door echoed. Loud enough to not only draw the digimons' collective attentions, but to startle Koushiro awake; the boy shot up in his seat, eyes wide and glossy as he let out a half squeak, half croak.

"Koushiro-kun!" A warm voice called from the other side. Motherly. "Are you awake yet?"

"Define 'awake'." Terriormon snickered into his paws, drawing a look of ire from Tentomon.

The doorknob started to jiggle.

Terriormon froze in place. He and Lopmon looked uncertain before a silent agreement passed between them. Ears flopped downward. Bodies went slack. Eyes remained open and unblinking, as if made of nonliving glass.

"Koushiro-kun..." The door finally swung open to reveal Izumi Kae, who took one look at the room's occupants before straightening in surprise. "Oh!"

Agumon, Gomamon, Piyomon, and Palmon all raised their equivalents of a hand in greeting: "Yo!"

Once the initial surprise wore off, Kae smiled back at them.

"Ara...this explains why he was holed up in here for most of the weekend. I had no idea we were hosting a slumber party."

"It's alright." Gabumon told Lopmon and Terriormon. "She knows." He then turned back to the household matriarch and did his best to bow his head. "Apologies if we've been any inconvenience to you."

"Not at all."

Kae's smile never once waved as she shook her head, squatting down to better meet the group at eye level. Her knees pressed together as she rested her arms atop them, watching with great interest as most of the digimon began to gather around her. Familiarity apparent in their eyes and voices as they took turns re-meeting the Izumi matriarch. The older digimon were first, while the younger ones took their cues accordingly.

Terriormon and Lopmon chose to linger back for the time begin, watching the scene unfold. Koushiro's mother reminded them of Wallace's mama in all the best ways.

"I don't suppose you're all hungry right now?" She asked.

Thirteen pairs of eyes shimmered.

"Do you know how to make omelets?!" There were stars in Agumon's eyes. His mouth watered at the thought.

Tentomon heaved an audible sigh before turning back to his partner. Most of the sleep had been blinked from Koushiro's eyes, and though his hair was still a bit of a sight...well, wasn't it always? The last few hours' of sleep had still done him some good. Color returned to his cheeks as he let out a wide yawn, reaching up to stretch both arms above his head.

"What time is it?"

His mother looked up from where she'd been shaking Terriormon's paw.

"I'd say it was time for you to sleep in an actual bed, dear, but you did say you wanted to see your friends at the cultural festival today."

Rising to a stand, she placed both hands on her hips and gave her son a good once-over. Rumpled clothing. Shadows beneath a glassy gaze. A large red mark on the lower left cheek where he'd been pressing it against his arm on the desk. She resisted the urge to sigh; long ago had she resigned herself to the fact that he would forever be his biological parents' son, but that didn't mean she had to encourage their worst habits.

"Wash up and get changed. And you're not leaving this house until I'm certain you've had proper nutrients put in you."

"Yes 'kaa-san." His shoulders slumped, knowing that anything other than total compliance would get him nowhere. "I'll just check my email real quick, and then—"

"No, young man. Now."

"...yes, 'kaa-san."

Satisfied, Kae gave one last bow to the digimon before turning to exit the room, softly shutting the door behind her out of habit.

Koushiro slouched back in his seat, fingers running through his hair before moving to stand. His legs felt awkward and his knees wobbled beneath him.

It had been sometime since he'd devoted a full weekend to any one project. And never anything to this scale. Researching what was already there? It was only a matter of finding it. Firewalls and code-breaking? Time-intensive, but anything build could always be taken apart. But this? A government-level algorithm he'd only partially memorized. Which he only had half the story as to what it actually did.

With his level of computer expertise, a bit of international (and inter-dimensional) correspondence, and a little help from the digimons' codes he'd spent the weekend scanning, he'd gotten about three quarters of the algorithm reconstructed and realized it was meant to detect and hone. Close, but nowhere near where he'd hoped to be before meeting up with the others.

"Koushiro-han?" he heard Tentomon call to him.

"I'm alright." Forcing a smile, he turned his attention downward. "Maybe once I get back, I can try—gah!"

"Koushiro-han!"

A single step was all it had taken for Koushiro's ankle to roll. His center of balance was lost. Not enough to cause him to fall, but enough to knock him straight into his computer monitor. The screen momentarily rippled before fading back into its usual hues.

With one noted difference: he'd inadvertently jostled the mouse, clicking on the link to his latest email message.

What he read stopped him cold.

Both hands slammed down on the table with such force, it startled poor Patamon into scattering his playing cards. Koushiro's eyes were shimmering with awe and excitement and Tentomon wasn't sure whether to be relieved his partner was feeling obviously better or worried he was about to get in trouble with his mother over this.

"That's it!" The boy exclaimed. Not bothering to close out the window, he rounded the desk and made a beeline for the exit. "I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner. The answer was right in front of me all this time...twice over, even!" He threw the door open with a flourish, calling back over his shoulder, "You guys stay here. I have to get to the hardware store before school!"

"Koushiro-han!" Tentomon tried to fly after him. "What about—?"

His devotion was rewarded with a door to the face.

"...breakfast..."

The rest of the group exchanged glances, each more unsure than the last.

"What do we do now?" Lopmon asked.

"Well, he _did_ tell us to stay here." Terriormon hopped down from the love-seat, scratching at one ear. He turned to Chibimon. "That means we're following him, right?"

Chibimon looked almost offended by the question, giving a tiny huff in response.

"Of course we're following him."

o

o

Daigo had hoped for a quiet morning.

Everything about the day was ideal. Skies with a few sparse clouds scattered. Not too hot, not too sunny, and with just the right about of breeze to feel refreshing. His services as homeroom teacher wouldn't be needed, as his class had each signed up for club-related obligations. None to which he was an adviser. Classes were off, and all he needed to continue employment at the high school was show up.

So show up he did, with a cup of his favorite spicy noodles and bottle of royal milk tea. A vacant teacher's lounge awaited him. He considered regretting not bringing a small radio with him, but was content to listen to the songbirds chirping right outside the open window. Soft and cheerful.

And peaceful.

...until the door slammed open and an irate Yagami Taichi stormed in.

"We need to talk."

Out of the corner of his eye, Daigo watched the songbirds fly off, wishing he could join them.

"I see you're in a good mood this morning, Yagami-san."

As he expected, Taichi ignored all pretense of pleasantries or politeness, marching straight up to his calligraphy teacher with a heated glare.

"You said you were going to be honest with us.

Daigo held the chopsticks centimeters from his mouth, taking time to blow on the steam. "In my defense, I have literally not seen you for two days. When would I have had time to lie to you?"

"You're still having us followed." The boy's tone was at heated as his cup noodles, though his arms folded across his chest in an oddly defensive manner. "We saw them. Twice on the way to Hikari's school. And again on my way here after I dropped her off."

"You still walk your sister to school?" Daigo raised an eyebrow.

"It's on the way!"

Daigo gave a low snort before sending one last, longing look to his second breakfast. _So much for a quiet morning._ He set the noodle cup back on the desk, placing the chopsticks over the lid. Hoping some of the heat would be contained long enough to keep the noodles from growing cold. From there, he spun around in his seat to properly face Taichi.

"Truthfully, I'm more surprised you're this surprised." His lips twisted to one side in a crooked grin. "We told you what it is we're after. What we're looking for. Doesn't it make sense to follow around the closest things we have to anomaly magnets?"

For a moment, Taichi was just confused enough to forget he was supposed to be pissed. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Yagami. You're smarter than that. Think." He lightly tapped the side of one temple for emphasis. "Three years ago. Six years ago. Last week. Digimon appearing in the Real World...and what was the one thing in common with each occurrence?" He gave Taichi a moment to ponder the question. Waiting to see if he figured it out on his own. He didn't. " _You._ All of you. In the last ten days alone, we saw a grand total of five anomalies, and at least one of you were within range at every single one."

Taichi's arms unfolded, left to hang at his sides. His mouth opened. No words came out. His body moved of its own accord, leading him to the seat opposite his teacher.

Daigo took that as a sign to continue, holding up two fingers to start before adding one at each subsequent count.

"Downtown Odaiba? Two separate anomalies. Signals were twice as strong. Local park where your friends were last seen? All readings indicated the presence of residual digital energy signatures. Train delay on your way to the airport—"

Taichi's head snapped up with a start. _That was a digital gate?!_

"—not to mention to obvious incident at the harbour. I don't think I have to tell you what happened there."

He didn't.

Taichi shifted uneasily in his seat.

"Coincidence?" He suggested, already knowing how weak it sounded.

Daigo shook his head silently.

Taichi's lips pressed together, forming a thin line. His gaze turned downward, staring at the hardwood-covered floor. At the boards. Each one cut in the exact size and shape as the next. Falling exactly where one would expect it to. But the patterns in the wood itself varied so greatly from board to board that it was impossible for one to match with those surrounding it. A puzzle that both fit and didn't fit at all.

What Daigo said made sense to him. The kind of sense someone like Koushiro would have pointed out. Or Hikari. As much as the thought gave him pause, Taichi was willing to admit there _was_ a connection between the Chosen and the Digital World. Could that be what was causing the gates to start ripping open? And if so, why? Because of their Crests? Or the scan Homeostasis had done on them the night of Parrotmon's (first) attack?

And, more importantly...did that even give them a choice in whether or not to keep fighting?

"Maybe Yamato's right," he muttered. Mostly to himself.

Daigo heard all the same.

"Look," A heavy sigh passed through his lips. He genuinely felt for the boy. The internal struggle he was facing. "I know Maki-chan's all for side-lining you guys. Part of me is too. It would certainly make all this a lot easier on everyone involved. But I also know there's very little chance of getting all of you to listen to reason when there's no way in hell any of us did back then." His chin lifted until he was staring straight up at the ceiling, eyes glazed over in bittersweet nostalgia. "I just don't want the same thing happening to you that happened to her."

Taichi grimaced. "You mean your friend, Itsuki?"

"No. I mean Maki-chan."

Taichi opened his mouth, only to close it again soon after. He looked to Dago, awaiting elaboration.

"Losing Itsuki-san and Tapirmon...it broke her. Permanently." A shadow washed over him, and for an instant, his eyes darkened to a depth that caused a chill down Taichi's spine. "She lost the two people she'd cared about most in either world, all in the blink of an eye. Her partner. Her best friend—no, not even." His closed his eyes. A private thought crossed his mind, unspoken words souring his tongue. "Her heart completely shut down. But that wasn't even the worst of it. Remember...none of our parents knew. How could we tell them? So when we came how, and Itsuki-san didn't..."

He trailed off, leaving the rest of Taichi's imagination.

The boy's face paled.

"I know she went to see them. Once or twice, I think. I have no idea if she ever tried talking to them, or came close to explaining what happened. The rest of us felt too guilty to face them, and we didn't know them like she did. It was only later we learned—through an evening news broadcast—that her mother passed away from grief. Her father went about a month after." Lowering his chin back to a neutral spine, Daigo met Taichi's gaze directly. "This was all less than a year after we lost Itsuki-san."

The image of his own mother flashed in Taichi's mind's eye then. Specially, that burned image of her tear-soaked face as she sobbed over the hospitalization of her baby girl. And that had "only" been a severe case of pneumonia. What would have become of her if Hikari had died that day? Or succumbed to her cold in the Digital World?

It wasn't just their family, either. Koushiro's parents may not have shared a blood relation with the young genius, but there was no mistaking the love they felt for their adopted son. The same with Sora's mother, a woman who'd risked life and Bakemon for the sake of reunion. Takeru and Yamato's parents only ever seemed to reunite for the sake of their sons. Mimi's doted on her like she was the center of their world...which she probably was. Jou's family only ever wanted the best for him. The same with Daisuke's family and Miyako's.

Wallace...Taichi had heard from multiple sources just how close the American Chosen was with his mother. How he'd called her constantly during his cross-country trip to save one of his digimon partners. Going so far as to travel all the way to Tokyo with her so she wouldn't have to make the trip alone.

And Iori's and Ken's had already faced devastating losses—how could they be expected to lose even more?

"I don't..." he began, feeling his body grow tense.

Thoughts of their families had never been pushed from any of the Chosen's minds for long. During the earliest days of their first Adventure, all they had wanted was to find their way home. And yet, the grim reality of their lives—and how those lives were affecting so many others—was only now beginning to dawn on Taichi.

He looked to Daigo. The only adult who could come close to understanding. "What should I do?"

But to his great dismay, Daigo could only shake his head.

"That's the thing about growing up, Yagami-san. Nobody can tell you that but you."

o

o

Iori shifted awkwardly from one foot to the next. Reaching up to adjust the strap pulling on his shoulder, the weight of all his books causing a strain on his already tense muscles.

The movement seemed to draw very little attention from the growing crowd around him.

In a way, he supposed it made sense for them to ignore a random elementary student wandering into their schoolyard. Most of them were too busy setting up booths and decorations. A quick glimpse at his watch told him he was over a half hour early for opening ceremonies. Plenty of time for those leaving things until the eleventh house. But also late enough that the beginnings of outside guests weren't entirely unexpected.

"Umm...excuse me." Steeling his nerves, he approached a group of three girls nearest the entrance. One was in the process of hanging up a banner, but the two at the base of the ladder looked to him just as he respectfully bowed his head. "Please forgive my interruption, but I was hoping you might know where I could find my friends this morning?"

In the time it took his soft-spoken tenor to reach their ears, their expressions went from mild curiosity to...well, it wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say they _melted_.

(Figuratively speaking, of course—it wasn't _that_ hot out.)

"How cute!" The younger girl gushed amid her friend's giggles. "You must be from the local elementary school. What year are you?"

Caught off-guard by her reaction, Iori could only blink back a wide-eyed stare.

"...uh..."

"Hush, Ueno-chan. You'll scare the poor boy." The girl on the ladder began her decent, waiting until she was safely back on solid ground before turning around. A hand went to the back of her head, absently checking the tie securing her long, black ponytail as she offered Iori a more demure grin. "Don't mind her. You said you were looking for some friends of yours. May I ask their names?"

Iori felt himself relax at the far more casual tone. Between the three girls, he would have pinned the one in the ponytail as Class Representative, or at the very least, head of one (or more) of her school clubs. She had that air about her. Confident and knowledgeable, but approachable enough that it wasn't too intimidating to ask for help.

She reminded him just enough of Miyako that the girl's name very nearly passed through his lips first before he remembered himself.

"Ah...one is Motomiya Daisuke-san. One of Takaishi Takeru-san. And the third is Yagami Hikari-san. I don't suppose you're familiar with any of them?"

"All three, actually." Ponytail grinned without missing a beat. She cranked her neck to look at something in the distance to her left. "Motomiya-kun should be by the soccer field today. I think they were selling noodles or something like that. Yagami-san's helping with the drama department, but I'm not sure which room they were given. Information should know that much. As for Takaishi-san..."

Where she trailed off in uncertainty, the one called Ueno stepped in. "I know him. He's in Nee-chan's homeroom. They were supposed to be doing a scavenger hunt all week."

"That's right." The third girl stepped forward, adjusting her thick, lavender-rimmed glasses as she spoke. "I believe he's supposed to be on recruitment duty, which means he could be anywhere in the school. Ah...actually, since you're here..." she made a quick dash for a nearby bench, diving straight into the pile of bags sitting on its corner. When she returned, she shoved a small flier into Iori's hands. "If you're interested, it's open to anyone. Here are the rules, and here is where you check in each day."

In fact, Iori had already known about the scavenger hunt from Takeru-(an identical flier was sitting inside his shoulder bag)-but he accepted the flier with grace anyway.

"Thank you. For you help, and for the flier as well."

"Anytime." Ueno waved a hand in the air before smirking. "But seriously...any chance you'll be coming here next year?"

" _Ueno-chan!"_ Her friends giggled in unison.

"Kidding!"

The trio headed off in a flurry of gushing and hushed whispers, and Iori was left frozen in place until long after they'd disappeared across the courtyard. Left utterly confused, bewildered, and...almost a bit curious as to what had just happened and—more importantly— _why_. And for the first time since she'd disappeared, he realized he was actually grateful Miyako wasn't there with him.

Because she'd never let him live this down.


	11. ELEVEN

As you may have guessed by now, the next few chapters will be covering a School Festival arc. Which means a touch of Slice of Life amid all this plot. (Yay!)

Ironically, the SoL parts of _Balance_ have been some of my favorite to plan out. I say "ironically" because I had such a love-hate relationship with many of those parallel scenes in TRI. Part of it was the pacing. It always seemed so disconnecting to have all these casual shenanigans going on when we were led to believe there was a LOT at stake. That's why I moved the timeline of the Festival so far up. Forced normalcy adds to the tension of the unknown, rather than letting it fizzle out by slow-burning back to daily life.

One other major change that I made deliberately was to give more importance to the middle school. For one, because obviously Mimi's arc no longer exists—though don't worry, she has some new stunts to pull in lieu of—and for another, it gives me the chance to play with an entirely new, unseen setting from canon.

Among, you know...other reasons.

o

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

The classroom door slammed open; Sora nearly jumped in her seat, reflexively tucking her cell back into her bag before looking up.

Two of her classmates were staring back. One—she recognized the bespeckled girl as Wantanabe Kino, who was typically so much quieter in her movements—looked starry-eyed and distraught at the same time. The other, a fellow tennis player by the name of Hayakawa Mitsumi, was more focused in her steely gaze. If Sora had any doubts as to whether they were here for her, or the floral centerpieces she'd been finishing for their class art cafe, a single look from Mitsumi dispelled them all.

She waited patiently for them to explain.

She didn't have to wait long.

"Takenouchi-san..." Was that...sadness she heard coming from Mitsumi? Enough to make her a bit nervous. "We're so sorry."

Nervous and confused.

"For what?" Wracking her brain, she glanced around the room. It was empty, save for her and the baker's dozen worth of vases on the surrounding desks. Her mother, in a rare moment of financial generosity, had donated several of her shop's most commonly sought-after types. Sora, herself, had taken up the responsibility of arranging them in exchange for fewer shifts during the week. Not one of her classmates had objected at the time, but… "Did somebody change the schedule? Please don't tell me they let Nanahara-kun in charge of—"

Mitsumi cut her off. "Forget the schedule. This is way more important."

" _Way_ more," Kino, ever her best friend's faithful shadow, echoed sadly.

Sora's brows furrowed, and she moved to stand. Pausing just long enough to rub some of the life back into her legs from having remained in one position for so long. "Okay, I give up. What's wrong?"

"It's...Ishida-senpai."

She froze. Realization slowly dawning on her with all the dread that came with it. She somehow resisted the urge to both groan and bury her head in her hands, and instead settled for an inaudible sigh.

There were perks to being best friends with the school rock star. Sora was not above a small degree of personal glee at knowing she could get floor seats to any one of his shows anytime she asked. Most of the time, she didn't even have to ask. Yamato always put aside a dozen or so for their group. He never told anyone this, of course. But word had gotten out after the last time, and thanks to a certain blonde-haired middle schooler's _generosity_ towards a few of his (female) schoolmates…

"I'm sorry," forcing a pleasant smile, Sora shook her head. "I don't have a way to get you tickets. Or backstage. Takeru-kun had—"

"No, it's not about that." Again, Mitsumi shifted her weight from foot to foot. Impatient. "We got out tickets weeks ago. They're actually decent. Tenth row, almost center."

Now Sora was completely out of ideas, left to stare after them both in silent question.

"Have...you seen senpai today yet?" Kino chimed in.

Hearing their social peers refer to Yamato as _senpai_ would never not feel surreal to her. There had been hell to pay the first year Taichi caught wind of the growing trend, for reasons which were as inexplicable as the boys' tenuous friendship, but Sora usually tried to ignore the thought as much as possible. In her mind, Yamato was just Yamato.

Still...the question itself wasn't overly suspicious. Not yet. She even took the time to give it some real thought, eyes turning toward the ceiling as she pressed a finger to her chin.

"No. I don't think so."

Which brought up the question of why they were asking in the first place. Mitsumi had a penchant for the melodramatic, but this was a bit much even by her standards. Did something happen to him? Or the band? Did they get into another fight, or threaten to break up? Was one of them sick? Scenario after scenario started to play out in her mind's eye. Each more worrying than the last.

Whether or not the look on her face gave her troubled emotions away, Kino abruptly turned to her best friend and murmured, "Maybe we shouldn't."

"Hush, Kino-chan. I still say she deserves to know."

"But Matsumi-chan..."

"Know what?" Sora found herself asking.

The pair exchanged glances.

"We saw him talking to a girl this morning." Kino finally stated glumly.

"And? I'm pretty sure he does that every day."

"Yeah, but we didn't recognize this one." Mitsumi placed both hands on her hips, leaning forward. She towered over Sora by several centimeters, and to any who might not have known the girl, they might have found the pose intimidating. There was no actual 'official' fan club for the Teenage Wolves, or any of their members...at least, none that Sora knew of...but if there had been, she was confident Mitsumi would have pulled rank then and there. "Nobody does. We asked around. She's wearing our school's uniform, but nobody knows who she is or where she's from. And she was being very familiar with Ishida-senpai."

" _Very_ familiar," Kino mumbled.

"And the worst part was that he let her! I swear, I saw her invade his person space more than once, and maybe it was because she looks like one of those Jpop idols, but he didn't even—are you _laughing?_ "

What started as a widening grin and light shake of the shoulders quickly exploded into a fit of good-natured giggles. Sora couldn't help herself. She tried to cover her mouth with one hand, but it made very little difference. Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes. She had to lean back against the desk to steady herself, less she double-over in a skirt (even if she was wearing sports shorts underneath.)

Mitsumi and Kino stared after her incredulously. It was clear from their expressions that they had not expected her to react like this

"Is...she okay?"

"Maybe she's in denial."

"No, that's me."

"Maybe you're both in denial."

"S...sorry..." She finally managed, wiping at her eyes as she straightened. It wasn't even all that funny, if she stopped to think about it long enough, but she'd needed a good laugh. "It's just...I was hoping to see Mimi-chan before lunch today, but it sounds like you found her first."

"You _know_ her?!" Kino's eyes went uncharacteristically wide.

"Is there anybody you _don't_ know?" Mitsumi asked incredulously.

Sora gave a sheepish shrug.

"But..." Kino was still processing. "...she kept leaning so close...and the whispering in his ear..."

Sora shook her head. "That's just...Mimi-chan being Mimi-chan." Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. "We've all been friends since we were kids, and she's very..." Here, she trailed off, trying to think of the best way to describe Tachikawa Mimi to someone who didn't know her like they did. "...American."

Close enough.

The pair were still at a loss for words, allowing Sora the time to properly catch her breath. She moved to gather her things. In a way, Mitsumi and Kino were actually right. Their classroom art cafe would have to wait. Something far more pressing than the centerpieces had just come up...though definitely not in the way they had been imagining.

"Thanks for letting me know she's here." Slipping her cross-body bag over her head, she shook out her hair, feeling the freshly-cut ends tickle her skin at the nape of her neck. "Which direction were they?"

Wordlessly, they pointed right. Kino's mouth was agape.

Sora took the time to bow her gratitude—not bothering to wait until the unfroze long enough to bow back—before heading out the door and into the hallway. Most of that wing was empty, as students were either gathering outside for opening ceremonies or already making plans for off-campus visits.

She started down the hall, listening to any sounds of idle chatter in the distance, when a sudden thought stopped her cold.

"Did they think..." Eyes widening, she slowly turned back towards the room. A second later, she snapped back to the present, furiously shaking her head. "...nah..."

o o o

Ten minutes into her search, she found them.

And immediately understood how an outsider could misinterpret the situation.

Yamato was in his natural habitat, partially illuminated from the sunlight streaming in through the large walkway windows. His long bangs cast a shadow over one eye in a manner more than half the girls (and some of the boys) found alluring, and his posture was cool and at ease. He was leaning against the wall, arms folded and head tilted ever so slightly towards the small video camera his current companion was holding out for him. Mimi, meanwhile, seemed to glow from behind as she sat on a windowsill ledge, legs crossed towards Yamato and in close enough proximity that, occasionally, her long, wavy hair would graze his shoulder.

Words exchanged between them were too soft for anyone to overhear, but their body language was clear. Yamato was relaxed and even smiling in her presence and Mimi had a certain twinkle in her eye as she looked far too proud of herself.

...or, at least, it would look that way to an outsider. But Sora was no outsider. She knew them both far too well not to see the polite awkwardness behind that smile, or the way Mimi was way more interested in something on the tiny screen than the boy standing beside her.

"You two are going to start quite the rumours like that," she called out teasingly.

Mimi's face lit up as the older girl approached. "Sora-san!"

"I just had two second-years come find me to make sure I knew all about Ishida-senpai's new girlfriend." Somehow, Sora managed to keep a (nearly) straight face, glancing back and forth between them. "Is there something you two want to tell us?"

Mimi let out a giggle as she shifted her focus back to Yamato, who visibly recoiled back. "What do you think, Yama-senpai _?_ We could be the next hot item in the gossip columns."

"Knock it off." Yamato muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned away. His cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Tsundere! Yama-senpai's being tsundere!"

"Don't call me that!"

"Which one? Yama-senpai or tsundere?"

"Either!"

"Mimi-chan..." Sora chided the younger girl gently. It might have carried more weight if she hadn't been holding back a fresh bout of laughter on her end. Before her joke got too out of hand, she made a point of changing the subject: "You two are still free this morning, right?"

It was a rhetorical question. She already knew Mimi had been excused from participating in her homeroom's activities because it was technically her first day on campus. There was no time to create a new role in the play just for her. And Yamato's band was only scheduled for afternoon rehearsals the rest of the week.

Mimi nodded anyway. Yamato gave a low snort indicating he was still annoyed at them both.

Sora sighed at the two responses, knowing she brought it on herself. She reached for her bag, digging through its contents to find the cell she had discarded earlier. Once she found it—somehow at the bottom of the bag. again—she flipped the lid open and began scrolling through her most recent messages.

"Koushiro said he left the digimon at home with his mom, so we won't have to worry about them today." Though her heart gave a small twinge at the thought of being separated from her partner even longer, they had all agreed it was for the best. Keeping the digimon together meant they would be safe. And much less likely to get into trouble. "He and Taichi should get to the middle school around— _Yamato..."_

She cut herself off when the boy's eyes notably darkened at Taichi's name.

"What?" He asked curtly.

"Tsundere~" Mimi murmured in a sing-song manner.

"Don't..." Yamato began, only this time he was the one who stopped short.

Sora had gone still. One might have attributed it to the intense way she was staring at her cell, as if lost in thought or trying to work out something mentally. Except her eyes had gone glassy. Something she read had upset her.

He thought about saying something, but ultimately decided to get Takeru to ask her about it later. He was much better about that sort of thing.

"What about Jou-senpai?" Mimi's voice cut through an otherwise tense silence.

One she had apparently missed; when they looked to her, she was still tucking the camera back in her large messenger bag. It was only then Sora realized she had never actually said what was on there. Odd.

"He's not coming today," she told her.

Mimi's head snapped up. "He's...not?"

Sora was...surprised by her apparent surprise. "I thought you knew. He has another exam coming up a week from today. He'll be home all week, studying."

"It's a miracle we managed to drag him out of his house for as long as we did," Yamato added.

The change in Mimi was immediately apparent.

Her usually expressive features went blank, as if the light in her had momentarily dimmed. She seemed to be processing the news. Thinking. Her eyes alternated between Sora and Yamato, searching for their respective reactions and taking note of the way neither seemed the least bit affected by the fact that one of their closest friends was being excluded.

By choice.

Over an exam.

That was a week out.

"We'll see about that."

The light returned with all the force of a lightning strike. Brighter and bolder than before. She grinned at them both as she hopped down, the click of her heels echoing loudly as she spun on them, towards the exit. Without so much as an inkling as to where she was going. Or even a farewell.

Sora and Yamato watched in mutually resigned horror as she disappeared down the hall.

"...good luck, Jou-senpai..."

o o o

o o o

Iori had assumed he would hear Daisuke long before he caught sight of him. He never would have guessed he'd ultimately track him down by smell.

Spicy miso. With a hint of...was that fish? Whatever it was, it made his mouth water. His stomach gurgled in agreement. The pleasant aroma lead him around the far building wing and towards the soccer field, just as he'd been told. It grew stronger as he approached the makeshift stand set up near the bleachers. Several jersey-wearing boys were gathered around. He recognized nearly all of them from past games.

"Yo! Kid!" Suddenly, Iori was the center of about a half dozen sport stars' attention. "I'd be happy to serve you, but Noodle-Head here says we're not allowed for another hour. Try coming back then."

The familiar tuff of spiky brown hair appeared from behind a large pile of boxes. "For the last time, you can't call it a 10-hour broth if you don't cook it for ten hours! I don't make these rules!" With both hands on his hips, he stomped forward, ready to continue defending himself. Then he caught sight of their audience, and immediately relaxed. "Oh. Iori. It's you."

"Hello, Daisuke-san." He lightly dipped his head, maintaining politeness in the face of Daisuke's peers. "I didn't realize I was so early. I can go see one of the others first if that would be easier for you."

Daisuke's mouth twisted to one side. "What? No, you're fine. It's not...hold on." He turned back to the boxes, quickly burying his hand in one until he pulled out two bottles of ramune. "Hold the fort down for me a bit, will you, guys? And don't you DARE touch that pot until I get back. Got it?"

Five of the boys collectively rolled their eyes at him, but nodded anyway.

"Really, Daisuke-san. I don't—" Iori began.

Daisuke responded by tossing him one of the bottles. "Don't worry. I needed to stretch my legs anyway."

Before Iori could protest further, he found herself being lightly dragged by one arm across the field. At the far end, near the goalpost, he caught sight of three more soccer players putting finishing touches on their booth sign. Ramen was spelled out in large katakana between two hand-drawn bowls of noodles. One significantly more skilled than the other.

All three gave Daisuke a quick shout and wave as they walked by, which Daisuke was happy enough to return.

Iori looked away, feeling like he was intruding even though they were all out in public. He turned his attention downward, to the bottle of ramune cradled in both hands. It was Kiwi-flavored. Not his favorite, but he wouldn't have expected Daisuke to know his preferences anyway. He supposed he should have been lucky he didn't end up with wasabi. Or chili oil.

He reached for the film, ripping it off in a single motion. After a moment's deliberation, he awkwardly tucked it into his pocket. Removing the cap to pop out the plunger was a little more challenging while he was still holding the bottle, but he'd done it enough times that it was a familiar process. From there, he needed only push down the marble stopper.

"It doesn't seem real, does it?" Daisuke spoke suddenly.

Iori looked up at him. Then down at his soda. Then up again.

"Not the soda," He shook his head, idly swirling his bottle around. Iori noticed he hadn't even started opening it yet. "I mean...you know...everything."

"I...see."

Iori didn't see.

He and Daisuke had never been that close, which often made it difficult for Iori to discern what Daisuke was thinking . They were friends, sure, and still knew more about each other than most of their other friends, but they had so little in common outside their roles as Chosen. Even during their adventures traveling to the Digital World, Iori had often stuck closer to Miyako or Takeru, while Daisuke was drawn to Hikari and Ken like a magnet.

The awkwardness was palpable on both ends; Daisuke reached up to scratch his head during the lull in conversation.

"The worst part is that, even when I keep wishing Ken was here to agree with me, I know he wouldn't be able to. It's the same with him."

Iori looked up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The whole business with his brother. And all that time he spent in the Digital World before he was turned into the Kaizer. I mean, yeah, I was once kidnapped and held hostage with half of Odaiba by a bunch of Bakemon and them..."

They came upon a large ginkgo tree just starting to turn red. Daisuke unceremoniously plopped himself at the base, head turned towards the leaves as he continued to swirl the liquid in his bottle. With one knee propped up, he reached for the film and finally began the process of opening it.

Iori remained standing, for once staring down at the older boy as he watched a series of unusually contemplative expressions wash over him.

"Taichi-senpai had told me a little about the Digital World. So when I got V-mon, I thought it was the coolest thing ever. It was finally my turn to be like Taichi-senpai. And Hikari-chan was with me, and the rest of you, and I could show you all that I was good at something besides soccer."

Iori's lips parted. He had never heard Daisuke talk in such a self-aware manner before. And hearing his perspective on their first days as Chosen was...strangely enlightening.

Because the sentiment was more similar own than he had ever admitted.

 _It was finally my turn._

"Except Takeru had to go and ruin my moment, and it never actually occurred to me it was because he really did know what he was doing and how dangerous it really was..." He paused to then shake his head, giving a low snort. "...or maybe I did, and I just didn't care because I wanted to be better than him anyway. I was too jealous to care." Then the humor was gone, and his whole face fell. "But...I'm definitely not jealous anymore. I never even once thought to ask _how_ he and Hikari-chan knew so much about the dangers...what they were going through by going back..."

"...or what they went through the first time," Iori added softly.

Daisuke nodded, then glanced up with an ironic half-grin. "It's not just me, then. Got to you, too?"

Iori nodded, coming to a seat directly opposite Daisuke.

He had dealt with loss before. The death of his father. Taken from his and his mother while in the line of duty. (Ironically, it had been the very trip they'd taken to retrieve his body that led him to his first contact with Digimon.) So when Maki and Daigo described the death of their friend at Piemon's hand...well, the feeling had been too familiar to shock him that much.

But it did reaffirm what he had long suspected about his jogress partner. That there were horrors in Takeru's past he had yet to divulge.

Daisuke sat back, leaning his head against the trunk of the tree. "You know what, thought?" The corners of his lips twitched upward. "I still wouldn't have missed a second of it. Not even knowing what we know now."

Iori quickly realized he was mirroring Daisuke's expression. "It's not over yet."

"I"ll drink to that," Daisuke chuckled, tilting his head back to take a large swig of his drink—

Then promptly spat it back out.

"Gah! Who the hell ever thought chili oil soda was a good flavor?!"

o o o

o o o

The doorbell rang.

Kido Shin looked up from the book he was reading, adjusting his glasses as he stood. A second ring echoed throughout the main room, emphasizing the mysterious guest's impatience. He sighed, wishing Shuu were here to deal with it. He was so much better at that sort of thing,

"Coming!" He called out habitually, shoving a thumb between the pages to mark his place with one hand as he used the other to open the door. "Can I help...you?"

The book slipped from his fingers, crashing to the floor.

A high school girl stood on their front porch. Smiling brightly. His mind barely registered the uniform as belonging to one of the local schools, except she looked nothing like a local girl. Soft, brown hair with streaks of unnatural highlight. Delicate features. For a split second, he thought one of those idol-in-training girls had accidentally wandered into the wrong apartment complex.

She was staring at him intently, eyeing him up and down with far more curiosity than Shin had ever thought he warranted.

"Shuu-san?" She asked.

He wasn't even in the right frame of mind to feel annoyed. "Shin."

"Right!" For some reason, the mistaken identify didn't deter her in the slightest. She even seemed...pleased. "You were the one there with Mama and Papa the second time. I remember you driving up on the scooter."

"I...was?" He was frozen in place by confusion.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, because she threw her hands on her hips, eyes narrowing.

"It wasn't _that_ long ago. Geez! You'd think watching your brother float up into the sky with his friends would leave more of an impression."

"...ah!" After a moment's pause, it finally clicked. Six years ago. She would have only been...what, ten or eleven at the time? Covered in pink and wearing that absurdly large hat of hers. No wonder he didn't recognize her right away. The others still lived close by. Hikari. Sora. He'd seen them enough times to know their faces on sight. So, by process of elimination… "Long time no see, Mimi-chan."

"You do remember me!" Back to cheerful, this time with a faint giggle.

"Like you said, you all made a pretty strong impression back then." He stepped back, inviting her in and shutting the door while she took off her shoes. "I assume you're here looking for Jou. He isn't in trouble, is he?"

Her smile didn't waver. "I haven't decided yet."

"I see." Biting back a growing smirk, he gave a slight jerk of his head towards the hall. "Last door on the left."

o o o

"Jou-senpai!"

The boy in question nearly fell out of his chair as Mimi came bursting through his bedroom door in all her unabashed glory.

"Mimi-kun?" He blinked the stinging from his eyes, adjusting his glasses to make sure he wasn't starting to hallucinate. "What…?"

She lingered in the doorway just long enough to cross her arms over her chest and give him a good once-over. Not unlike how she'd done for Shin. The difference being, this time, she already knew who she was looking at and was more assessing his current state. Fashion-wise...well, she had expected much worse. Despite being at home, he had still found the time to dress in his usual school uniform, his button-up only slightly wrinkled and his pants crisply pressed. Good. That would save time.

"I came to get you." She told him, as if it should have been obvious. "You do know what day it is?"

"Monday?" despite his certainty, he still glanced at the calendar on the wall out of habit.

" _School Festival_ Monday," she corrected. "And yet, here you are, stuck inside instead of spending it enjoying the main reason I insisted that Papa have all my enrollment paperwork done before we even got back."

He wanted to be surprised. The thought that Mimi would actually hunt him down over his notable absence that day should never have crossed his mind. It was just...such a Mimi thing to do. And a small part of him was actually touched she would go this far on his behalf.

Unfortunately, the rest of him was too busy.

"I have to study, Mimi-kun," he stated gently, not wanting to risk offending her further.

"You have all _week_ to study!"

"No. You don't understand." He shook his head. Hesitated. Bit his lip. His eyes glanced to a certain drawer in his desk, and he weighted the pros and cons before finally deciding to open it, pulling out the slip of paper he hadn't let anyone else see until then. Not even Shin. "I spent five days straight studying for the last one. And...this was the result."

Her arms uncrossed as she entered the room, socked feet padding softly against his hardwood floor. Once she was within arm's reach, she took the paper and leaned against his desk to study it intently.

Jou watched her face out of the corner of his eye with uneasy trepidation. He was ashamed of the number scrawled across the top right corner. Afraid his parents would learn of his literal failure and be even more disappointed. Frustrated that all the work he'd put in hadn't been enough. That he needed to work even harder. Maybe harder than he was capable.

He would have loved nothing more than to shove that stupid exam in the bottom of the trash, but it served as a reminder. And, now, proof.

"See?" He asked after a moment, trusting that she would.

Mimi's answer was to crumple the paper with both hands, forming a ball she used to toss into the corner wastebasket.

"Mimi-kun!" He exclaimed, voice cracking. "What—"

"Which books are you using to study?"

"I..." She was going too fast for him. His mind was still reeling from watching her throw away his failures with such ease, and he reflexively indicated to the books piled up on his desk.

"That's what I thought."

His knapsack was resting along the side of the desk. She must have recognized it from the previous weekend, because she picked it up without much thought and began shoving his texts inside the main pouch, one by one. Then his notebook. Then the packaged sandwich sitting unopened next to it.. Then his half-empty bottle of iced green tea. Then the pen he'd still been holding in one hand. Only when she'd shoved the pack into his chest and dragged him to his feet did he finally remember himself. And his voice.

"Mimi-kun...what are you doing?"

"I'm making a deal with you." Her hand slipped into his free one—the one not still clutching his knapsack like it was his lifeline. "One hour. Give me one hour at the Festival, and I promise I'll spend the rest of the afternoon helping you study."

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

He knew exactly what to say. He even knew, more or less, how to say it. Mimi was one of his dearest friends, and he would trust her with his life...but she was also two years younger than him. And this was one of the rare situations in which that actually mattered, because it also meant she was two years behind him in school.

She must have seen the hesitation in his eyes, because in the next moment, hers had softened: "I have an idea. I promise. Trust me on this?"

There was something in her tone…

Jou relaxed his shoulders. A resigned smile appeared.

"Is there anything I can say that will get you to let me sit back down?"

"Nope!"

"Then...alright, Mimi-kun. One hour."

o o o

o o o

Laughter. Footsteps. Wheels rolling along the flat pavement.

In the distance, a teacher's distorted voice came through the speakers, announcing the start of the day's activities. All eyes were turned to the main stage. Hundreds of them. Some taking pictures. Others chatting with groups of friends, making plans.

Not one of them noticing the unusual way the wind seemed to pick up. Air swirling in unnatural patterns. Faster and faster, until-

A flash of light.

Two small figures emerged.

It took less than a second for them to take in the new surroundings...then they both took off in opposite directions.


	12. TWELVE

(Funny how you can find more time to write while quarantined at home 24-7, even still working full time!)

Those who have been following this story from the beginning may or may not have noticed I've been doing a bit of fiddling with it. Trying to tighten up a few previous chapter scenes and even redoing the summary. 99% of these changes are minimal, with little impact on the plot as a whole, and involve continuity fixes and rewording some of the more awkward paragraphs. Small touch-ups that still don't require having to go back and reread anything to make upcoming chapters make sense (unless you want to, of course!)

In addition, for very little reason beyond my own personal amusement, I did include another anime crossover in the middle of the chapter. I would say 'obscure', but the truth is, I genuinely have no idea how well known the series might be because it only came out a few years ago. See if you can spot the reference.

o

o

* * *

 ** **DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE****

* * *

o

Takeru was on a mission.

...okay, technically, he was on two missions, the first having been assigned to him before he'd set foot in homeroom. What their Class President lacked in patience, she more than compensated with enthusiasm. Fliers advertising the scavenger hunt had been shoved into his hands while the Secretary rattled off a list of places around the schoolyard to solicit potential participants. Reminders of deadlines and rules were drowned out by one of the other students yawning the previous night's sleep away. One of several still standing off to the sides with shell-shocked looks on each of their faces.

Takeru had simply accepted the fliers with a compliant grin before turning to head back out.

Across the courtyard, he heard the school bells chime. _10a.m._

Good; he knew exactly where she would be at that time. Hers was one of the few clubs scheduled for indoor set-up. Most of the rest were already stationed for immediate post-opening ceremony services, or not on duty until later in the day.

The crowds were still relatively thin. He recognized nearly every face he passed by. Some had a smile and wave in greeting. Others looked preoccupied. Like two of his classmates he caught sight of at the end of the path. He shook his head, inwardly wondering what Class President would have said if she caught sight of the two giggling and exchanging numbers with the blonde boy they were chatting with instead of passing out…

Wait.

Blonde.

And...that was definitely an American accent.

 _Wallace?_

Surprise stopped Takeru cold. Curiosity kept him there.

People-watching had become a favorite hobby of his the last few years. There was something about getting to observe from an objective distance—even if, he was willing to admit, some of his curiosity about the American Chosen was anything _but_ objective. Still, whatever the (ironic) feelings slowly emerging from within, he was resolved to give Wallace his best shot.

He was certainly friendly enough, with a pleasant aura even as he chatted with two girls he had just met. They were receptive, giggling at some comment he made. He was smiling brightly, taking the time to offer equal attention to both. There was a cell in his hands. A red _AU by kddi_ flip model, Takeru recognized. He must have gotten it over the weekend. The girls still had their cells out as well.

Grinning to himself, Takeru shook his head. Wallace certainly had a habit of moving fast, but he also had the skills to—

"Takeru!"

He looked back up in time to see the boy in question approach. The two girls still lingered nearby, though they had since turned away and appeared far more interested in their cells.

"Good morning, Wallace-san." Takeru realized he'd started to smile back. A mix of forced habit, along with...well...Wallace looked so at ease with himself, it was hard not to emulate. Though that didn't stop from adding a slight tease to his tone: "Still looking for a date for the wedding, I see."

But Wallace was quick to shake his head. "No, actually. I ran into Hikari while dropping the twins off at Koushiro's Saturday. We talked for a little bit, and she agreed to come after all."

"She did?"

Takeru had...not expected that.

"Yeah." There was little change in Wallace, either oblivious to the tone of Takeru's reaction or seeing no reason to comment on it. "Lucky for me, the hotel gardens are so picturesque. I mentioned she could be our unofficial other photographer for the afternoon as a joke, and her eyes lit up more than if she'd already caught the bouquet."

Takeru couldn't help himself. He laughed. The bouquet reference was lost to him—he briefly wondered if it would be worth the risk to ask his mother later—but there had never been so predicable a response than Hikari agreeing to another opportunity to take pictures. Maybe if the wedding cake was made of ice cream too. It was strangely comforting in the familiarity of it all.

"So, where were you heading. If it's alright for me to ask?" Wallace wanted to know.

Takeru hesitated. He had a decision to make.

"To see Hikari-chan, actually." An olive branch. Whether or not Wallace would ever know he was being extended one in the first place. "It's funny you should mention her photography, because that's exactly what she's doing today." He turned back towards the same path he'd been heading down earlier. A silent invitation for the other boy to join him. "A few of the smaller clubs in the school teamed up for their Festival project. They've turned the choir room into a photography studio, or so I've heard."

"A Photography studio?" Wallace's eyes were wide. "That's really creative. I would have never thought a School Festival project could be something like that."

"Just wait until you see it."

They fell into step with one another with ease. Being of similar heights, neither boy had to speed up or slow down to keep up. It was an oddly refreshing change for Takeru, who usually needed to do one or the other. Yamato and Taichi and even Sora had gotten tall, and had a habit of walking fast. But Hikari was still on the shorter side with a much narrower gap to her stride. Not that he ever minded having to wait for her.

A few additional familiar faces passed. Takeru had a smile for each one of them as he always did.

"You two seem close," Wallace commented at one point, though his gaze lingered elsewhere. He was still taking in the rows of booths and various degrees of dress. Most of the middle schoolers were in matching uniforms, though there was a growing variety as other schools began to show. Some were donned in costumes. Or yukatas. There were even a couple of grannies decked out in full kimono, complete with traditional hair and makeup...although the illusion may have been dispelled by the fact that they were walking around with more charms hanging from their open cells than there was phone. "How long have you known her?"

An innocent enough question. More than likely just making conversation.

"We used to live in the same apartment complex when we were little." Flashes of Hikarigaoka played in his mind and, for once, they didn't involve two battling digimon. "I didn't fully meet her until I was seven, though."

"When you have to go up against that Piemon guy?"

"No, a little before that." Takeru shook his head. Instinctively, he glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Their voices barely carried over the buzz of the crowd. Just in case, he softened his voice before continuing. "Hikari-chan wasn't with us the day we went to the digital world. We had to make it back home to find her first."

"I see. So she and Tailmon were accidentally left behind."

"Something like that."

If someone had asked him that morning how he'd predicted his day would go, walking with Wallace while talking about his and Hikari's shared past would never have made the list. And while he had little objections to his learning more about that, Tailmon's story was not his to tell.

Instead, he turned the focus back to himself and Hikari.

"When I finally saw her in person, Tailmon had just evolved to Angewomon for the first time." The corners of his lips twitched upward at the memory. "I remember looking to Patamon, and we didn't need to say anything. He evolved to Angemon and flew out to fight with her. It's like the two of them became an instant team."

The doors to the main building were wide open because of the festival. Takeru side stepped once to allow a group of seniors by—noting Wallace do the same thing on the other side—before entering into the main hall. His feet moved of their own accord, guiding them both to the right stairwell, and up to the third floor.

"Even from the start..." Wallace was murmuring to himself. He looked contemplative for a moment before shaking his head. He started over. "That must've been strange for you. Meeting a girl for the first time and finding out her digimon was the female counterpart to yours."

Takeru opened his mouth to comment. Words failed him. He closed it, instead offering a light shrug, not knowing what to say. He'd never given much thought to the notion before. Mostly because he'd never had a reason to. Their wasn't a story that could be shared with non-Chosen friends. Almost everyone who was in on the 'secret' had been there in some way.

Really, only Daisuke had ever come close to questioning the connection. For (maybe) different reasons.

What would he have said if he'd heard them talking?

"I guess...it just made sense." Takeru seldom spoke his thoughts aloud as they formed. Usually, his words were more carefully thought out. And less...vulnerable. "Everything about Hikari-chan...even the parts that shouldn't make sense...she's always made sense to me. From the beginning."

Wallace's expression was unreadable.

"You trust her."

"It's hard not to."

Only one of the doors in that hallway was open, a dozen or so voices coming from inside. Wallace peeked inside and counted an even blend of male and female students darting about. Some were carrying bundles of fabric. Three were up on ladders.

Whatever a Japanese middle school choir room once looked like had been replaced by a wall-spanning gallery of photo-realistic backdrops, stage lights, hand-held reflectors, and various sized tripods. A large rack of costumes sat near the entrance, and there were tables set up with basic makeup and hair supplies. Above the door, a sign reading PHOTOGRAPHY STUDIO was decorated with pictures of everyone involved with the event.

"Oi! Takaishi-san!" One of the boys on the ground lifted his head, waving from beneath an obvious wig. Without asking, he jerked a thumb towards the back of the room and told them, "She's over there."

Wallace was somewhat confused, but a flash of brown hair was all Takeru needed. He made quick work of crossing the room, avoiding the hazards scattered about, and ignored any pairs of eyes that may have been watching.

After all, he was still on a mission.

"Good morning, Takeru-kun." Hikari was kneeling on the ground, fixated on her tripod's several adjustment knobs. Judging from the way she kept biting her lower lip, one of them was definitely stuck again. "Are Oniichan and the others here yet?"

He waited until she had tried for the umpteenth time to loosen the screw, using the exact moment she let out a small huff in frustration as his cue. Biting back a rising smirk, he crouched down beside her and reached for the knob. She leaned back, allowing him the space to put his strength into it. The first attempt yielded very little, but it wasn't long before he was able to get a full twist. Enough to loosen it for her.

She smiled her gratitude. Praise enough for him.

"I don't know. I haven't seem them." He finally allowed the smirk to surface. "But that's not why I'm here."

Her head tilted to one side. "It's not?"

He shook his head.

She waited for an explanation.

He continued smirking.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. She knew that smirk. Too well. "What is it?"

From where he still lingered in the doorway, Wallace watched Takeru lean in to whisper something in the brunette girl's ear. A hand even came up to lightly touch her upper arm. The boldness of the gesture—even by Wallace's standards—caught him off guard. But not nearly as much as the fact that he seemed to be the only person in the room reacting.

Not one of their classmates was paying them any attention.

Hikari didn't even blush.

What she did do was flicker her eyes downward, unfocusing them so she could better hear. Until they widened, brightening with such excitement as she let out a gasp.

"Really?"

Takeru nodded.

"Where?"

Takeru said nothing more as he grabbed her hand and pulled them both back up to a full stand. Tripods and fliers were forgotten as he half led, half pulled her out the room through the back door, leaving an even more confused Wallace to watch their retreating forms with far more questions than his brain was ready to handle.

"Great." He heard one of the other girls sigh in annoyance. "He'd better bring her back before we open this time."

o o o

o o o

Footsteps clacked against concrete. All kinds. Some smaller than others. Some wearing soft soles, others clad in wooden geta. Some of them came and went in groups. Others in pairs or even by themselves. Some walking at a leisure pace, while others darting by so quickly, there was even less of a chance they'd notice the cluster of bushes to one side rustling.

Without wind.

Under the thick foliage, fourteen pairs of eyes were trying their hardest to steal a peek. There were grunts and snorts. Wiggling and shoving. The distinct sounds of a cross between buzzing and hushing.

"Shh! We're going to get caught, you guys!"

"Oh, take it easy." Terriormon glanced back over his shoulder with a roll of his eyes. He was flat on the ground, body half buried beneath the leaves in attempt to get closer. "You should see this place. I bet we could walk right out and no one would notice."

"I'm not risking that," Piyomon shook her head.

"How did we used to get around?" Gomamon wondered.

"Yamato carried me in my Baby II form..." Gabumon blushed

"Does anybody see a stroller we could borrow, maybe?" Palmon wondered.

"Maybe we should've stayed in the trees." Minomon murmured.

Upamon's mouth twisted into a deep frown. He had one of the better vantage points, peering out from just over the top of the bush. His coloring blended in a little better with the leaves, making him less likely to be spotted by the crowds walking around.

"Are we sure this is where Koushiro went?" A group of five walked by, all of them dressed identically. "Those uniforms don't look like the ones he was wearing when he left."

Agumon turned to Gabumon. "Didn't Taichi and the others used to wear something like that?"

"Maybe he's visiting someone." Patamon suggested, turning to Tailmon with a hopeful grin. "Takeru and Hikari could be here!"

"And Daisuke!" Chibimon cheered.

Tailmon, too, seemed pleased by the thought, mirroring Patamon's expression (albeit at a bit more subdued level.) Her mind whirred with the possibilities of their situation.

It had been a few years' Real World time since she'd traveled Odaiba's streets, but she remembered a lot of the tricks picked up from her earliest visits. Between all the digimon, her form most closely resembled that of a familiar creature. She had even walked among children who thought little of her "strange" coloring.

"We've kept out of sight in the past." She agreed. "If we're subtle about this, we might be able to—"

"Anybody else smell food?" Agumon lifted his noise into the air, so large it poked out the top of the bush. He inhaled deeply. "It smells like roasted fish! This way, guys!"

With absolutely no subtlety whatsoever, the dinosaur digimon made a dash for open space.

Luck brought him to a walkway momentarily cleared of traffic and he made a dash for the grassy area on the other side of the concrete. The rest of the group had seconds to spare before following.

"...move without getting noticed." Tailmon finished with a heavy sigh. Her expression flattened. "I'm friends with a bunch of idiots."

"But you love us anyway." Patamon was still by her side, sending his dear friend a warm smile.

The feline digimon refused to either confirm or deny this claim.

...though she did have to fight a hint of smile after glancing his way, shaking her head before starting after the rest of the group. Patamon flying close behind.

They were the last ones to make it across, guided by Chibimon's flailing feet under a large stretch of cloth. It was dark underneath. Very little indication of what they'd actually crawled under. Tailmon would have guessed a table, but the shape and size didn't seem right to her. Her eyes adjusted, and she did a quick head count. Thirteen. A nod. That checked out.

"Which way from here?" A voice sounding like Gabumon's asked.

Everyone shifted about as they tried to figure out which shadow was Agumon. Until there was light at the end of the darkness.

"This way, guys!" Terriormon used one ear to lift the edge of the sheet higher. Sunlight flooded their temporary hiding place. "All the humans are facing the wrong way and I think I see another place to hide over there."

A murmurer of agreement between the group, and they were off once more.

Just as Terriormon claimed, this new area appeared to be divided by rows with several pairs of feet facing opposite directions. Large, wooden structures had been set up. Most of them heavily decorated. At one point, Tentomon glanced up and saw a bunch of balloons stapled to a wall. Gomamon grimaced when he spotted a fish-catching station. There was laughter and frivolity all around.

"Is this what school in Japan is like?" Lopmon wondered aloud.

None of them knew how to answer that.

Their destination was close. Just past a group aiming weapons that shot out water into sideways buckets. The humans were focused intently on their task. One last dash, and they each slipped back under the cover of shadows.

"The smell's getting stronger." Chibimon's voice noted, followed by the sounds of sniffing. "We must be really close."

Amidst the rising excitement, Tailmon did another count.

Twelve.

She froze. Then recounted. Just in case.

Twelve again.

"...guys..."

"Lopmon?" Terriormon's voice called out. Concerned. "Aniki? Where are you?"

Light. From the direction they'd just come.

And a sharp gasp.

"Uh-oh..." Piyomon had one wing to her beak while the other kept the sheet lifted for the others to see.

Everyone crowded around.

Lopmon was in the middle of the grass, laying prone on his stomach. Unmoving.

Terriormon's first thought was that his brother had accidentally knocked himself unconscious. Possibly while staring at all the pretty colors adorning the booths. He steeled himself, rolling up imaginary sleeves in preparation for retrieving his poor twin.

Two steps in, both Palmon and Gabumon had to hold him back.

He barely had time to cry out in protest when he heard a sound that sent a chill down his spine:

"Bunny."

It was a child. Young. Younger than Terriormon's first memories of Wallace. The little boy stood over Lopmon's prone form with a stoic expression so out of place on someone his age. The whole of his body language was calm, save for the traces of curiosity behind a half-lidded stare.

"Kotarou!" A second boy—this one, significantly older—called to him. Feet connected to legs too long to see the top of appeared next to the child. "Did you find something?"

The child looked up, expression unchanging as he pointed down. "Nii-chan. Bunny."

His brother obliged, crouching down until he came into the hidden digimon's line of sight. Resting his arms across his knees, he gave the object on the ground a quick once over, taking in the unnatural coloring and oversized ears, and came to a reasonable conclusion. And smiled.

"You're right. Someone must have left their stuffed animal here. We should bring it to the lost and found."

He reached to pick it up, but was stopped by a tiny hand on his forearm.

When he looked to the child in surprise, the younger boy shook his head. There was determination in his features now. This was emphasized by a curt nod. He held out both hands.

His brother must have understood the nonverbal message easily, because his smile warmed. "I see. You're the one who found him. It should be your job to return him." Seeing no fault to the logic, he picked up the 'bunny' and passed it over. The sheer size eclipsed Kotarou's tiny frame, but he was not deterred. "The rest of the group is waiting. Let's head back."

Something vaguely resembling another nod came from behind the 'bunny'.

Together, the pair of brothers turned and started back down the grassy path. Only then were Lopmon's wide eyes visible over the child's shoulder. Catching one last glimpse of his fellow digimon beneath the sheet, he silently mouthed the word 'help' before disappearing from view.

Terriormon let out a sharp cry, ears flying into the air with such force, they knocked back his two captors.

"They've digi-napped by brother!"

"Don't worry." Chibimon came up beside him, placing a small, comforting paw on Terriormon's equally small shoulder. "We'll help you get him back. Right, guys?"

Everyone nodded their agreement.

Even Tailmon.

o o o

o o o

Taichi squinted as morning sunlight shone through the pristine lenses, watching the iridescent blues shimmer. The glass was barely tinted. It weighed no differently than he would have expected it to. Even the material of the band felt too familiar as he tentatively wrapped the goggles around his head, letting them rest atop his unruly mop of hair.

Sora was staring. Not that he could blame her. From the look in her eyes, she must have been seeing the image of him at eleven. Prepared to lead a group of preteens through a foreign world long before he was ready.

"I'm amazed they still make them in that style," she commented fondly.

Yamato stood beside her, stiff in posture and arms crossed over his chest. More than once, Taichi caught him staring as well, but he could have cared less about whatever image flashed in the blonde's mind. This was the first time they'd spoken since their latest fight, and the tension was still palpable.

And honestly? After that stunt Yamato'd pulled in front of Hikari and Mimi and the others...yeah, Taichi was still pretty pissed.

Koushiro nodded his approval. Then almost immediate had to stiffen another yawn. He resisted the urge to rub the sting from his eyes.

Sora frowned. "How much sleep did you get this weekend?"

"Enough."

"Liar," Yamato snorted.

The auburn-haired boy frowned, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he reached for his pack. Sure, his hair was still wet from a rushed morning shower. He knew there were still shadows beneath his eyes. Still, it couldn't have been _that_ bad?

"I made it here on time, didn't I?" Give or take fifteen minutes. "I only finished programming the lenses about a half hour ago. I haven't even had time to test them myself."

Taichi immediately yanked the goggles off his head, holding them out at arm's length.

"Test them for what?" He let them hang from a single pinch between his thumb and forefinger, watching them twirl back and forth with heightened suspicion. "What did you do?"

"Put them back on and you'll see."

He looked to Koushiro. The younger boy looked confident. He looked to Sora. She looked wary. He looked to Yamato, then immediately looked away when realizing Yamato was looking back at him. Between the two (...okay, _three)_ of them, every instinct of Taichi's was screaming at him to do exactly not that.

So, in the heat of the moment, he made a spontaneous decision based on what he thought was his best option: he put them on, this time pulling them over his eyes.

And waited.

"Nothing's happening," he stated after a moment.

Sora let out a sigh, and Taichi wondered if she'd been holding her breath.

"Assuming they're working properly, that's actually a good sign." Koushiro's lips were pressed together as he balanced his PineApple laptop on one hand while his other danced across the keys

Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Not doing anything is them working properly? What would happen if they weren't?"

"I didn't mean it like that." Koushiro paused in his work to lightly rub at his temple. Was that a caffeine headache, or was he dehydrated? Some days, it was difficult to tell. "It's like Nishijima-sensei said. Their technology was primarily meant for detection. If the lenses aren't activating, it means there's no digital radiation for it to detect. Which, given where we are, I'd say is a very good sign."

"You stole tech from the government?" Yamato's jaw dropped, hands falling to his sides.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I didn't. I simply memorized enough of the program algorithm that, with a little help from a few online friends and the digimon, I was able to replicate it. All it needed was a translucent detecting screen to use as a visual input. Goggles seemed the logical choice."

Sora's expression mirrored Yamato's.

Taichi was still fiddling with the frame. He turned his gaze upward, then slowly to the right. At some angles, he could see a hint of refracted light indicative of an extra piece of glass inside. Almost undetectable if he hadn't known it was supposed to be there.

"Not that I don't trust you with my life, Koushiro," he began, shifting back to the left. "But these things had better not explo..."

The screen flared to life, flooding his vision with a subtle increased brightness. Minuscule characters scrolled along one side. Colors shifted. The world around him muted as his eyes widened in vain attempt to take in the rush influx of data. Only half of which he even understood.

"Taichi?" Sora's muted voice called to him. "What is it? What do you see?"

He didn't answer.

At least, not at first. His pupils flickered back and forth rapidly, dilating just before he abruptly spun on his heels. And grimaced.

"You guys aren't going to believe this..."

o o o

o o o

Hikari's eyes sparkled with delight as she gazed out the school window. The bulk of her weight was pressed against the sill bottom in attempt to get the best possible view, and at her height, she had to rise up to the balls of her feet for leverage. A soft hum escaped her lips, carried on a single breath. Her shoulders were relaxed. Her smile, warm. She looked genuinely happy. And radiant, her delicate features highlighted by the gentle beams of sunlight streaming in through the crystal clear glass.

Then her eyes flickered towards him, and Takeru knew he'd been caught staring.

Fortunately, he had an excuse. He always had an excuse to look at her.

"You knew, didn't you?" He came up beside her and made a point of mirroring her posture. Glancing back out of the corner of his eye with a smirk, as if he'd meant for her to catch him. "It's written all over your face."

Whether or not she believed him, Hikari instead turned back to the window.

"Did you?"

He didn't answer that either.

He followed her line of sight, down onto the field of booths lining the outer and inner edges of the school courtyard. The crowds had gotten more dense in the last ten minutes, and the number of other school uniforms was close to outweighing those of their fellow middle schoolers. But what had captured their attention most was a certain familiar individual not wearing a uniform. And the brown-haired girl beside him who was.

"So much for studying."

Hikari suppressed a giggle.

From that angle, it was difficult to see which of the booths Mimi had chosen to stop at first. They were in the prize games area. Beyond that, it was a random guess who she was talking to, or why Jou was standing behind her looking sheepish. The conversation lasted several seconds before a few objects were placed on the counter. Balls, maybe? Whatever they were, Mimi grabbed the first one for herself and shoved the second one into a flustered Jou's hands.

Glasses askew, the poor boy seemed to consider protesting before resigning himself to compliance. Smiling faintly all the while.

Mimi relished in the small victory.

"There must be something in the air." Takeru quipped. He risked a glance at Hikari, and was unable to stop himself before adding: "I even heard a rumour you'd been recruited as a wedding photographer. New career choice?"

Usually, his teases earned him a minimal of an eye roll. Maybe narrowed eyes on one of his better days.

Hikari barely reacted. Almost as if she didn't hear him. Pensive contemplation washed across her face, and though she never once let their friends out of her sight—still watching them as Jou threw one of the balls at something with results that left Mimi tossing her hands up in excitement—it was clear her mind was elsewhere.

Takeru felt a strange pit deep in his stomach.

"When he asked me...there was something." Vague. Distant. Almost...dreamy? No, he had to be imagining… "It's hard to describe. Different. Like it was in the van. I think I felt it then, too."

He immediately regretting asking.

Just as he meant to turn his head away, he caught Hikari's whole body stiffen. Her lips parted in silent gasp as she straightened. Eyes confusing in a different way than before. Pupils dilating.

Takeru knew that look.

"Where?"

She turned to him. Her shoulders weren't relaxed anymore.

"Here."


End file.
